THE  LIFE 

0¥ 

.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON; 

WITH 

CURIOUS   ANECDOTES, 

EQUALLY    HONOURABLE   TO    HIMSELF, 

AND 
EXEMPLARY  TO    HIS  YftTTHG  COUNTftYMEN. 


A  life  how  useful  to  his  country  led  J 
How  loved  !  while  living  !— how  revered!  now  dead  1 
Lisp  I  lisp  !  1m  name,  ye  children  yet  unborn  ! 
And  with  like  deeds  your  own  great  names  adorn. 


EMBELLISHED  WITH  SIX  ENGRAVINGS. 

BY  M.  L.  WEEMS, 

FORMERLr  RECTOR  OF  MOUNT  VERN02f  PARISH. 


The  Author  has  treated  this  great  subject  with  admirable, 
««  success  in  a  new  way.  He  turns  all  the  actions  of  Washing-. 
ton,  to  the  encouragement  of  virtue,  by  a  careful  application  of 
numerous  exemplifications  drawn  from  the  conduct  of  the 
founder  of  our  republic  from  his  earliest  life.* 

//.  Lee,  Major- Central,  Ariraj  U.  S. 


PHIL.1JJELPHM  : 

PUBLISHED   BY   JOSEPH  ALLEN, 
AND  SOLD  BY  GRIGG  &   ELLIOT, 

No.  9,  North  Fourth  Street. 

1833. 


Dittrict  of  Pennsylvania,  te  vrit : 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  twenty-fourth 
§  §  day  ot  September,  in  the  forty-ninth  year  of  the  Indepen- 

Aq_       ft  dcrice  of  the  United  States  of  America,  A.  D.  1824.  H,  C. 
*"%  Carey  &  I.  Lea,  of  the  said  district,  have  deposited  in  this 
y^vjp.v  office  the  title  of  a  hook,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as 
proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit : 

"  TKe  l>»£e  of  Ge^e. Washington,  with  curious  anecdotes,  equaUf 
honourable  °to  himself,  and  "exemplary  to  his  young  countrymen. 

•  A- life  fteVu^fuftto  hisjcountry  ted ! 

tfow  loved  !  while  living — how  revered !  now  dead  ! 
Lisp !  lisp !  his  name,  ye  children  yet  unborn ! 
And  with  like  deeds  your  own  great  names  adorn  ! 

Twenty-seventh  edition — greatly  improved— By  M.  L.  Weenn, 
formerly  rector  of  Mount  Vernon  parish." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  en 
titled,  "  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
eopies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of 
such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  :"  and  also  to  the  act, 
entitled,  "  An  act  supplementary  to  an  act  entitled,  *  An  act  for 
the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps,  Charts, 
»nd  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the 
times  therein  mentioned,'  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints.'* 

D.  CALDWELL, 

Clerk  of  the  District  of  Pennsylvania. 

N.  B.  The  above  Copy-Right  has  been  purchased  oy  Joseph 
Allen,  and  is  regulator  transferred  to  him. 


THE  LIFE 


OF 


WASHINGTON 


CHAPTER  I. 

OH  !  as  along  the  stream  of  time  thy  name 
Expanded  flies,  and  gathers  ail  its  fame  ; 
May  then  these  lines  to  future  days  descend, 
And  prove  thy  COUNTRY'S  good  thine  only  end  / 

u  AH, gentlemen  /'' — exclaimed  Bonaparte — 'twas 
just  as  he  was  about  to  embark  for  Eg}  pt — some 
young  Americans  happening  at  Toulon,  and  anxious 
to  see  the  mighty  Corsican,  had  obtained  the  honour 
of  an  introduction  to  him.  Scarcely  were  past  the 
customary  salutations,  when  he  eagerly  asked,  "  how 
fares  your  countryman,  the  great  Washington  ^'' "  He 
was  very  well,"  replied  the  youths,  brightening  at  the 
thought,  that  they  were  the  countrymen  of  Washing 
ton  ;  "  he  was  very  well,  general,  when  we  left  Ame 
rica." — "  Ah, gentlemen  /"  rejoined  he,  "  Washington 
can  never  be  otherwise  than  -well. —  The  measure  of 
his  fame  is  full. — Posterity  ^vill  talk  of  him  "with  re- 
'  verence  as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire,  when  my 
name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex  of  Revolutions  /" 

Who,  then,  that  has  a  spark  of  virtuous  curiosity, 
but  must  wish  to  know  the  history  of  him  whose 
name  could  thus  awaken  the  sigh  even  of  Bonaparte  ? 
But  is  not  his  history  already  known  ?  Have  not  a 

A2        337729 


4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

thousand  orators  spread  his  fame  abroad,  bright  as 
his  own  Potomac,  when  he  reflects  the  morning  sun, 
and  flames  like  a  sea  of  liquid  gold,  the  wonder  and 
delight  of  all  the  neighbouring  shores  ?  Yes,  they 
have  indeed  spread  his  fame  abroad. ...his  fame  as 
Generalissimo  of  the  armies,  and  first  President  of 
the  councils  of  his  nation.  But  this  is  not  half  his 
fame... .True,  he  has  been  seen  in  greatness  ,-  but  it  is 
only  the  greatness  of  public  character,  which  is  no 
evidence  of  trtte greatness ;  fora  public  character  is 
often  an  artificial  one.  At  the  head  of  an  army  or 
nation,  where  gold  and  glory  are  at  stake,  and  where 
a  man  feels  himself  the  burning  focus  of  unnum 
bered  eyes  ;  he  must  be  a  paltry  fellow,  indeed,  who 
does  not  play  his  part  pretty  handsomely... .even  the 
common  passions  of  pride,  avarice,  or  ambition,  will 
put  him  up  to  his  mettle,  and  call  forth  his  best  and 
bravest  doings.  But  let  this  heat  and  blaze  of  pub 
lic  situation  and  incitement  be  withdrawn  ;  let  him 
be  thrust  back  into  the  shade  of  private  life  ;  and  you 
shall  see  how  soon,  like  a  forced  plant  robbed  of  its 
hot-bed,  he  will  drop  his  false  foliage  and  fruit,  and 
stand  forth  confessed  in  native  stickweed  sterility 
and  worthlessness. — There  was  Benedict  Arnold-— 
while  strutting  a  BRIGADIER  GENERAL  on  the  pub* 
lie  stage,  he  could  play  you  $\Q  great  man,  on  a  hand 
some  scale  he  out-marched  Hannibal,  and  out 
fought  Burgoyne he  chased  the  British  like  cur 
lews,  or  cooped  them  up  like  chickens  !  and  yet  in 
the  private  walks  of  life,  in  Philadelphia,  he  could 
swindle  rum  from  the  commissary's  stores,  and,  with 
;he  aid  of  loose  women,  retail  it  by  the  gill !  I— 
And  there  was  the  great  duke  of  Marlborough  too 
— his  public  character,  a  thunderbolt  in  war!  Bri 
tain's  boast,  and  the  terror  of  the  French.!  But  his 
private  character,  what  ?  Why  a  swindler  to  whom 
Arnold's  self  could  hold  a  candle  ;  a  perfect  nonde 
script  of  baseness  ;  a  shaver  of  farthings  from  the 
joor  sixpenny  pay  ot  his  own  brave  soldiers  11 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  5 

IT  Is  not,  then,  in  the  glare  of  public,  but  in  the 
shade  of  private  life,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the 
man.  Private  life  is  always  real  life.  Behind  the 
curtain,  where  the  eyes  of  the  million  are  not  upon 
him,  and  where  a  man  can  have  no  motive  but  incli 
nation,  no  incitement  but  honest  nature,  there  he 
will  always  be  sure  to  act  himself:  consequently,  if 
he  act  greatly,  he  must  be  great  indeed*  Hence  it 
has  been  justly  said,  that,  ct  our  private  deeds,  it'  no* 
ble,  are  noblest  of  our  lives." 

OF  these  private  deeds  of  Washington  very  little 
has  been  said*  In  most  of  the  elegant  orations  pro 
nounced  to  his  praise,  you  see  nothing  of  Washing«> 
ton  below  the  clouds — nothing  of  Washington  the 
dutiful  son**-  the  affectionate  brother — -the  cheerful 
school-br  y — the  diligent  surveyor— the  neat  draftS" 
man — the  laborious  farmer—  the  widow's  husband— 
the  orphan's  father— -the  poor  man^s  friend.  No ! 
this  is  not  the  Washington  you  see  ;  'tis  only  Wash* 
ington,  the  HERO,  and  the  Demigod — Washington 
the  sun  beam  in  council,  or  the  storm  in  war. 

AND  in  all  the  ensigns  of  character  amidst  which 
he  is  generally  drawn,  you  see  none  that  represent 
him  what  he  really  was,  a  the  Jupiter  Conservator" 
•the  friend  and  benefactor  of  men.   Where's  his  bright 
ploughshare  thajt  he  loved— or  his  wheat-crowned 
fields,  waving   in  yellow  ridges    before  the  wanton 
breeze— —or  his  hills  whitened  over  with  flocks — or 
his  clover  covered  pastures  spread  with  innu-merous 
herds — ^or  his  neat-clad  servants  with  songs  rolling 
the  heavy  harvest  before  them?  Such  were  the  scenes^ 
of peace, plenty,  and  happiness,m  which  Washington 
delighted.     But  his  eulogists  have  denied  him  these, 
the  only  scenes  which  belong  to  man  the  GREAT; 
and  have  trick'd  Aim  up  in  ate  yile  drapery  of  man 
the  little.  ^See!  there  he  stands!  with  Cite  pa?*«s/-; 
Mars-'  the  destroyer"  dark  frowning  over  the  fields  ' 
o/waf — the  lightning  of  Potter's  blade  is  by  his  sidc.^ 
*-the  deep-mouthed  cannon  is  before  him,  disgorg-  * 
ing  men  with  mangling  balls—his  war-horse  oants 


6  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

with  impatience  to  bear  him,  a  speedy  thunderbolt, 
against  the  pale  and  bleeding  ranks  of  Britain  I— 
These  are  the  drawings  usually  given  of  Washing 
ton;  drawings  masterly  no  doubt,  and  perhaps  justly 
descriptive  of  him  in  some  scenes  of  his  life.  But 
scenes  they  were,  which  I  am  sure  his  soul  abhorred, 
and  in  which,  at  any  rate,  you  see  nothing  of  his  pri 
vate  virtue?*  These  old  fashioned  commodities  are 
generally  thrown  into  the  back  ground  of  the  pic 
ture  j  and  treated,  as  the  grandees  at  the  London  and 
Paris  routs,  treat  their  good  old  aunts  and  grandmo 
thers,  huddling  them  together  into  the  back  rooms, 
there  to  wheeze  and  cough  by  themselves,  and  not 
depress  the  fine  laudanum-raised  spirits  of  the  young 
sparklers.  And  yet  it  was  to  those  old  fashioned  vir 
tues  that  our  hero  owed  every  thing.  F<  r  they  in 
fact  were  the  food  of  the  great  aotions  of  him,  whom 
men  call  Washington.  It  was  they  that  enabled  him, 
first  to  triumph  over  himselj  ;  then  over  the  B  itish  ; 
and  uniformly  to  set  such  bright  examples  of  human 
Perfectibility  and  true  greatness,  that,comparecl  there 
with,  the  history  of  his  capturing  Cornwallis  and 
Tarleton,  with  their  buccaneering  legions,  sounds  al 
most  as  small  as  the  story  of  General  Putnam's 
catching  his  wolf  and  her  lamb-killing  whelps. 

SINCE  then  it  is  the  private  virtues  that  lay  the 
foundation  of  all  human  excellence — since  it  was 
these  that  exalted  Washington  to  be  "  Columbia's 
first  and  greatest  Son"  be  it  our  first  care  to  present 

i  hese,  in  all  their  lustre,  before  the  admiring  eyes 
or  our  children.  To  them  his  private  character  is 
every  thing',  his  public,  hardly  any  thing.  For  how 
glorious  soever  it  may  have  been  in  Washington  to 

.  have  undertaken  the  emancipation  of  his  country  ; 
to  have  stemmed AV/t\ong  tide  oi  adversity ;  to  have 

'  b>rt9kt/itvery  effort  of  a  wealthy  and  warhVe  nation ; 

,  to  have  obtained  for  his  countrymen  the  coi.  Dletest 

,*  victory,  and  for  himself  the  most  unbounded  power  ; 

[  and  then  to  have  returned  that  power,  accompanied 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


weight  of  his  own  great  character  anc1 
iblish  a  government  that  should  immor- 


with  all  the 
advice  to  establisl 

talize  the  blessings  ofliberty — however  •'glorious,  I 
say,  all  this  may  have  been  to  himself,  or  instructive 
to  future  generals  and  presidents,  yet  does  it  but 
little  concern  our  children.  For  who  among  us  can 
nope  that  his  son  shall  ever  be  called,  like  Washing 
ton,  to  direct  the  storni  of  war,  or  to  ravish  the  ears 
of  deeply  listening  Senates?  To  be  constantly  placing 
him  then,  before  our  children,  in  this  high  charac 
ter,  what  is  it  but  like  springing  in  the  clouds  a  gold 
en  Phoenix,  which  no  mortal  calibre  can  ever  hope 
to  reach  ?  Or  like  setting  pictures  of  the  Mammoth 
before  the  mice  whom  "  not  all  the  manna  of  Heaven" 
can  ever  raise  to  equality  ?  Oh  no  !  give  us  his/>rz- 
vate  virtues/  In  these,  every  youth  is  interested,  be 
cause  in  these  every  youth  may  become  a  Washing 
ton — a  Washington  in  piety  and  patriotism, — in  in 
dustry  and  honour— and  consequently  a  Washington, 
in  what  alone  deserves  the  name,  SELF  ESTEEM  and 

UNIVERSAL  RESPECT. 


CHAPTER  II. 
BIRTH  AND  EDUCATION. 

**  Children  like  tender  osiers  take  the  bow  ; 

"  And  as  they  first  are  formed,  forever  grow" 

TO  this  day  numbers  of  good  Christians   car. 
hardly  find  faith  to  believe  that  Washington  was, 
bona  fide,  a   Virginian  /  "  What  !  a  buckskin !  sa} 
they  with  a  smile.  "  George  Washington  a  buckskin, 
pshaw  !  impossible  !  he  was  certainly  an  European 
So  great  a  man  could  nevt  «•  have  been  born  in  Ame 
rica" 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

^  So  great  a  man  could  never  have  been  born  in  Ame 
rica  /—Why  that's  the  very  prince  of  reasons  why 
he  sfioufci  hsvt  been  born  here  !  Nature,  we  know, 
is  fond  of  harmonies  and  pariaparibus*  ths*  .\s, great 
things  t?  great,  is  the  rule  siVe  delights  to  work  by. 
Where,  for  example,  do  we  look  for  the  whale,  "  the 
biggest  born  of  nature  ?"  not,  I  trow,  in  a  mill-pond, 
but  in  the  main  ocean.  "  There  go  the  great  ships:" 
and  there  are  the  spoutings  of  whales  amidst  their 
boiling  foam. 

BY  the  same  rule,  where  shall  we  look  for  Wash 
ington,  the  greatest  among  men,  but  in  America — 
that  greatest  Continent,  which,  rising  from  beneath 
the  frozen  pole,  stretches  far  and  wide  to  the  south, 
running  almost  u  the  whole  length  of  this  vast  ter 
rene"  and  sustaining  on  her  ample  sides  the  roaring 
shock  of  half  the  watery  globe  ?  And  equal  to  its  size 
is  the  furniture  of  this  vast  continent,  where  the  Al 
mighty  has  reared  his  cloud-capt  mountains,  and 
spread  his  sea-like  lakes,  and  poured  his  mighty  ri 
vers,  and  hurled  down  his  thundering  cataracts  in  a 
style  of  the  sublime,  so  far  superior  to  any  thing  of 
the  kind  in  the  other  continents^  that  we  may  fairly 
conclude  that  great  men  and  great  deeds  are  de 
signed  for  America. 

THIS  seems  to, be  the  verdict  of  honest  analogy  ; 
and  accordingly  we  find  America  the  honoured  cra 
dle  of  Washington,  who  was  born  on  Pope's  creek 
in  Westmoreland  county,  Virginia,  the  22d  of  Feb 
ruary,  1732.  His  father,  whose  name  was  Augustin 
Washington,  was  also  a  Virginian  :  but  his  grand 
father  (John)  was  an  Englishman,  who  came  over 
and  settled  in  Virginia  in  1657. 

His  lather,  fully  persuaded  that  a  marriage  of 
virtuous  love  comes  nearest  to  angelic  life,  early 
stepped  up  to  the  altar  with  glowing  cheeks  and  joy 
sparkling  eyes,  while  by  his  side  with  soft  warm 
hand,  sweetly  trembling  in  his,  stood  the  angt>l-forni 
of  the  lovely  Miss  Dandridge. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  9 

AFTER  several  years  of  great  domestic  happiness, 
Mr.  Washington  was  separated  by  death  from  this 
excellent  woman,  who  left  him  and  two  children  to 
lament  her  early  fate. 

FULLY  persuaded  still,  that  "  if.  is  not  good  for 
man  to  be  alone"  he  renewed,  for  the  second  time, 
the  chaste  delights  of  matrimonial  love.  His  con 
sort  was  Miss  Mary  Ball,  a  young  lady  of  fortune, 
and  descended  from  one  of  the  best  families  in  Vir 
ginia. 

FROM  his  intermarriage  with  this  charming  girl, 
it  would  appear  that  our  hero's  father  must  have  pos 
sessed  either  a  very  pleasing  person,  or  highly 
polished  manners,  or  perhaps  both;  for,  from  what 
I  can  learn,  he  was  at  that  time  at  least  4O  years  old ! 
while  she,  on  the  other  hand,  was  universally  toast 
ed  as  the  belle  of  the  Northern  Neck,  and  in  the 
full  bloom  and  freshness  of  love-inspiring  sixteen. 
This  I  have  from  one  who  tells  me  that  he  has  car 
ried  down  many  a  sett  dance  with  her ;  I  mean  that 
amiable  and  pleasant  old  gentleman,  John  Fitzhugh, 
Esq.  of  Stafford,  who  was,  all  his  life,  a  neighbour 
and  intimate  of  the  Washington  family.  By  his  first 
wife,  Mr.  Washington  had  two  children,  both  sons 
— Lawrence  and  Augustin.  By  his  second  wife,  he 
had  five  children,  four  sons  and  a  daughter— George, 
Samuel,  John,  Charles,  and  Elizabeth.  Those  over 
delicate  folk,  who  are  ready  to  faint  at  thought  of  a 
second  marriage,  might  do  well  to  remember,  that 
the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived  was  the  son  of  this 
second  marriage. 

LITTLE  George  had  scarcely  attained  his  fifth 
year,  when  his  father  left  Pope's  creek,  and  came 
up  to  a  plantation  which  he  had  in  Stafford,  opposite 
to  Fredericksburg.  The  house  in  which  he  lived  is 
still  to  be  seen.  It  lifts  its  low  and  modest  front  of  fa 
ded  red,  over  the  turbid  waters  of  Rappahannock  ; 
whither,  to  this  day,  numbers  of  people  repair,  and, 
with  emotions  unutterable,  looking  at  the  weather- 


10  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

beaten  mansion,  exclaim,  "  Here's  the  house  where 
the  great  V/ashington  was  born  /" 

BUT  it  is  all  a  mistake ;  for  he  was  born,  as  I  said 
at  Pope's  creek,  in  Westmoreland  county,  near  th 
margin  of  his  own  roaring  Potomac. , 

THE  first  place  of  education  to  which  George  was 
ever  sent,  was  a  little  "  oldfeld  school"  kept  by  one 
of  his  father's  tenants,  named  Hobby;  an  honest,poor 
old  man,  who  acted  in  the  double  character  of  sexton 
and  schoolmaster.  On  his  skill  as  a  grave-digger, 
tradition  is  silent  ;  but  for  a  teacher  of  youth,  his 
qualifications  were  certainly  of  the  humbler  sort;  ma 
king  what  is  generally  called  an  A.  B.  C.  schoolmas 
ter.  Such  was  the  preceptor  who  first  taught  Wash 
ington  the  knowledge  of  letters  !  Hobby  lived  to  see 
his  young  pupil  in  ail  his  glory,  and  rejoiced  ex 
ceedingly.  In  his  cups — for  though  a  sexton,  he 
would  sometimes  drink,  particularly  on  the  Gene 
ral's  birth  days — he  used  to  boast  that  "  'twas  he, 
•who,  bet-ween  his  knees,  had  laid  the  foundation  of 
George  Washington's  greatness" 

BUT  though  George  was  early  sent  to  a  school 
master,  yet  he  was  not  on  that  account  neglected  by 
his  father.  Deeply  sensible  of  the  loveliness  and 
worth  of  which  human  nature  is  capable,  through 
the  virtues  and  graces  early  implanted  in  the  heart, 
he  never  for  a  moment,  lost  sight  of  George  in  those 
all-important  respects. 

To  assist  his  son  to  overcome  that  selfish  spirit, 
which  too  often  leads  children  to  fret  and  fight  about 
trifles,  was  a  notable  care  of  Mr.  Washington.  For 
this  purpose,  of  all  the  presents,  such  as  cakes,  fruit, 
&c.  he  received,  he  was  always  desired  to  give  a  li 
beral  part  to  his  play-mates.  To  enable  him  to  do 
this  with  more  alacrity,  his  father  would  remind  him 
of  the  love  which  he  would  thereby  gain,  and  the 
frequent  presents  which  would  in  return  be  made  to 
him  ;  and  also  would  tell  of  that  great  and  good  God, 
who  delights  above  all  things  to  see  children  love  one 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  H 

another,  and    will  assuredly  reward  them  for  acting 
So  amiable  a  part. 

SOME  idea  of  Mr.  Washington's  plan*  of  education 
in  this  respect  may  be  collected  from  the  following 
anecdote,  related  to  me  twenty  years  ago  by  an  aged 
lady,  who  was  a  distant  relative,  and,  when  a  girl, 
spent  much  of  her  time  in  the  family  : 

"  ON  a  fine  morning," said  she,  uin  the  fall  of  1737% 
Mr.  Washington  having  little  George  by  the  hand, 

I  came  to  the  door  and  asked  my  cousin  Washington 
and  myself  to  walk  with  him  to  the  orchard, promising 
he  would  show  us  a  fine  sight.  On  arriving  at  the 
orchard,  we  were  presented  with  a  fine  sight  indeed, 
The  whole  earth,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  was  strewed 
with  fruit  t  and  yet  the  trees  were  bending  under  the 
weight  of  apples,  which  hung  in  clusters  like  grapes, 
and  vainly  strove  to  hide  their  blushing  cheeks  behind 
the  green  leaves.  Now,  George,  said  his  father,  look 
here,  my  son  !  don't  you  remember  when  this  good 
cousin  of  yours  brought  you  that  fine  large  apple  last 

.  spring,  how  hardly  I  could  prevail  on  you  to  divide 
with  your  brothers  and  sisters;  though  I  promised  you 
that  if  you  would  but  doit,  God  Almighty  would  give 
you  plenty  of  apples  this  fall.  Poor  George  could  not 
say  a  word;  but  hanging  down  his  head,  looked  quite 
confused,  while  with  his  little  naked  toes  he  scratched 
in  the  soft  ground.  Now  look  up,  my  son,  continued 
his  father,  look  up,  George  !  and  see  there  how  rich 
ly  the  blessed  God  has  made  good  my  promise  to  you. 
Wherever  you  turn  your  eyes,  you  see  the  trees  load 
ed  with  fine  fruit ;  many  of  them  indeed  breaking 
down  ;  while  the  ground  is  covered  with  mellow  ap 
ples,  more  than  you  could  eat,  my  son,  in  all  your 
life  time." 

GEORGE  looked  in  silence  on  the  wide  wilderness 
of  fruit.  He  marked  the  busy  humming  bees,  and 
heard  the  gay  notes  of  birds;  then  lifting  his  eyes 
filled  with  shining  moisture,  to  his  father,  he  softly 
said,  u  Well,  Pa,  only  forgive  me  this  tune  ;  and  see 
if  fever  be  so  stingy  any  more" 
B 


12  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

SOME,  When  they  look  up  to  the  oak,  whose  giant 
arms  throw  a  darkning  shade  over  distan*  acres,  or 
whose  single  trunk  lays  the  keel  of  a  man  of  war, 
cannot  bear  to  hear  of  the  time  when  this  mighty 
plant  was  but  an  acorn,  which  a  pig  could  have  de 
molished.  But  others,  who  know  their  value,  like  to 
learn  the  soil  and  situation  which  best  produces  such 
noble  trees.  Thus,  parents  that  are  ivise^  will  listen, 
well  pleased,  while  I  relate  how  moved  the  steps  of 
the  youthful  Washington,  whose  single  worth  far 
outweighs  all  the  oaks  of  Bashan  and  the  red  spicy 
cedars  of  Lebanon.  Yes,  they  will  listen  delighted 
while  I  tell  of  their  Washington  in  the  days  of  his 
youth,  when  his  little  feet  were  swift  towards  the 
nests  of  birds  ;  or  when,  wearied  in  the  chase  of  the 
butterfly,  he  laid  him  down  on  his  grassy  couch  and 
slept,  while  ministering  spirits,  with  their  roseate 
wings,  fanned  his  glowing  cheeks,  and  kissed  his 
lips  of  innocence  with  that  fervent  love  which  makes 
the  Heaven  I 

NEVER  did  the  wise  Ulysses  take  more  pains  with 
his  beloved  Telemachus,  than  did  Mr.  Washington 
#ith  George,  to  inspire  him  with  an  early  love  of 
truth.  "  Truth,  George,"  said  he  u  is  the  loveliest 
quality  of  youth.  I  would  ride  fifty  miles,  my  son, 
to  see  the  little  boy  whose  heart  is  so  honest,  and  his 
lips  so/wr?,  that  we  may  depend  on  every  word  he 
says.  O  how  lovely  does  such  a  child  appear  in  the 
eyes  of  every  body!  his  parents  doat  on  him.  His 
relations  glory  in  him.  They  are  constantly  praising 
him  to  their  children,  whom  they  beg  to  imitate  him. 
They  are  often  sending  for  him  to  visit  them  ;  and 
receive  him,  when  he  comes,  with  as  much  joy  as  if 
he  were  a  little  angel,  come  to  set  pretty  examples 
to  their  children. 

"  BUT,  Oh !  how  different,  George,  is  the  case  with 

the  boy  who  is  so  given  to  lying,  that  nobody  can  be- 

ieve  a  word  he  says  !  He  is  looked  at  with  aversion 

wherever  he  goes,  and  parents  dread  to  see  him  come 

mong  their  children.    Oh,  George  !  my  son  !  rather 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  IB 

than  see  you  come  to  this  pass,  dear  as  you  are  to  my 
heart,  gladly  would  I  assist  to  nail  you  up  in  your 
little  coffin,  and  follow  you  to  your  grave.  Hard, 
indeed,  would  it  be  to  me  to  give  up  my  son,  whose 
little  feet  are  always  so  ready  to  run  about  with  me, 
and  whose  fondly  looking  eyes,  and  sweet  prattle 
make  so  large  a  part  of  my  happiness.  But  still  I 
would  give  him  up,  rather  than  see  him  a  common 
\  lar. 

"  Pa,"  said  George  very  seriously,  "  do  I  ever  tell 
lies  ?" 

"  No,  George,  I  thank  God  you  do  not,  my  son 
and  I  rejoice  in  the  hope  you  never  will.  At  least, 
you  shall  never,  from  me,  have  cause  to  be  guilty  oi 
so  shameful  a  thing.  Many  parents,  indeed,  even 
compel  their  children  to  this  vile  practice,  by  bar- 
barou'jly  beating  them  for  every  little  fault :  hence, 
on  the  next  offence,  the  little  terrified  creature  slips 
out  a  lie  !  just  to  escape  the  rod.  But  as  to  your 
self  George,  you  know  I  have  always  told  you,  and 
now  tell  you  again,  that,  whenever  by  accident,  you 
do  any  thing  wrong,  which  must  often  be  the  case, 
as  you  are  but  a  poor  little  boy  yet,  without  expert^ 
ence  or  knowledge,  you  must  never  tell  a  falsehood  to 
conceal  it ;  but  come  bravely  up,  my  son,  like  a  little 
man,  and  tell  me  of  it:  and,  instead  of  beating  you, 
George,  I  will  but  the  more  honour  and  love  you  for 
it,  my  dear." 

THIS,  you'll  say,  was,  sowing  good  seed  ! — Yes,  it 
was :  and  the  crop,  thank  God,  was,  as  I  believe  it 
ever  will  be,  where  a  man  acts  the  true  parent,  that 
is,  the  Guardian  Angel,  by  his  child. 

THE  following  anecdote  is  a  case  in  point.  It  is 
too  valuable  to  be  lost,  and  too  true  to  be  doubted  ; 
for  it  was  communicated  to  me  by  the  same  excel 
lent  lady  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  last. 

"  When  George,"  said  she,  "  was  about  six  years 
old,  he  was  made  the  wealthy  master  of  a  hatchet  !  oi 
which,  like  most  little  boys,  he  was  immoderately 


14  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

fond ;  and  was  constantly  going  about  chopping  every 
thing  that  came  in  his  way.  One  day,  in  the  garden, 
where  he  often  amused  himself  hacking  his  mo 
ther's  pea-sticks,  he  unluckily  tried  the  edge  of  his 
hatchet  on  the  body  of  a  beautiful  young  English 
cherry-tree,  which  he  barked  so  terribly,  that  I  don't 
believe  the  tree  ever  got  the  better  of  it.  The  next 
morning  the  old  gentleman,  finding  out  what  had  be 
fallen  his  tree,  which,  by  the  by,  was  a  great  favour 
ite,  came  into  the  house  ;  and  with  much  warmth 
asked  for  the  mischievous  author,  declaring  at  the 
same  time,  that  he  would  not  have  taken  five  gui 
neas  for  his  tree.  Nobody  could  tell  him  any  thing 
about  it.  Presently  George  and  his  hatchet  made 
their  appearance.  u  George ,"  said  his  father,  "  do  you 
know  who  killed  that  beautiful  little  cherry  tree  yon 
der  in  the  garden  ?"  This  was  a  tough  quest  ion  ;  and 
George  staggered  under  it  for  a  moment ;  but  quick 
ly  recovered  himself:  and  looking  athis  father,  with 
the  sweet  face  of  youth  brightened  with  the  inex 
pressible  charm  of  all-conquering  truth,  he  bravely 
cried  out,  u  I  can't  tell  a  lie,  Pa ;  you  know  I  can't 
tell  a  lie.  I  did  cut  it  with  my  hatchet." — Run  to 
my  arms,  you  dearest  boy,  cried  his  father  in  trans 
ports,  run  to  my  arms  ;  glad  am  I,  George,  that  you 
killed  my  tree  ;  for  you  have  jjaid  me  for  it  a  thousand 
fold.  Such  an  act  of  heroism  i  n  my  son  is  more  worth 
than  a  thousand  trees,  though  blossomed  with  silver, 
and  their  fruits  of  purest  gold." 

IT  was  in  this  way  by  interesting  at  once  both  his 
heart  and  head,  that  Mr.  Washington  conducted 
George  with  great  ease  and  pleasure  along  the  hap 
py  paths  of  virtue.  Rut  well  knowing  that  his  belov 
ed  charge,  soon  to  be  a  man,  would  be  left  exposed 
to  numberless  temptations,  both  from  himself  and 
from  others,  his  heart  throbbed  with  the  tenderest 
anxiety  to  make  him  acquainted  with  that  GREAT 
BEING,  whom  to  know  and  love,  is  to  possess  the 
surest  defence  against  vice,  and  the  hes*  of  all  mo 
tives  to  virtue  and  happiness.  To  startle  George  into 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  15 

a  lively  sense   of  his  Maker,  he  fell  upon  the   fol 
lowing  very  curious,  but  impressive  expedien  : 

ONE  day  he  went  into  the  garden,  and  prepared  a 
little    bed  of  finely   pulverized  earth,  on  which  he 
wrote  George's  name  at  full,  in  large  letters — then 
strewing  in  plenty  of  cabbage  seed,  he  covered  them 
up,  and  smoothed  all  over  nicely  with  the  roller.-—' 
This  bed  he  purposely  prepared  close  along  side  of 
a  gooseberry  walk,  which  happening  at  this  time  to 
be  well  hung  with  ripe  fruit,  he  knew  would  be  ho 
noured  with  George's  visits   pretty  regularly  ever} 
day.     Not  many  mornings  had  passed  away  before 
in  came  George,  with  eyes  wild  rolling,  and  his  lit 
tle  cheeks  ready  to  burst  with  great  news. 
"  O  PA  !  come  here  !  come  here  !" 
"  WHAT'S  the  matter,  my  son  ?  what's  the  matter?" 
"  O  COME  here,  I  tell  you,   Pa  :   come  here  !  and 
I'll  shew  you  such  a  sight  as  you  never  saw  in  all 
your  life  time." 

THE  old  gentleman  suspecting  what  George  would 
be  at,  gave  him  his  hand,  which  he  seized  with  great 
eagerness,  and  tugging  him  along  through  the  gar 
den,  led  him  point  blank  to  the  bed  whereon  was 
inscribed,  in  large  letters,  and  in  all  the  freshness  of 
newly  sprung  plants,  the  full  name  of 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

"  THERE,  Pa  ?"  said  George,  quite  in  an  ecstacy 
of  astonishment,  "  did  you  ever  see  such  a  sight  in 
all  your  life  time  ?" 

"  WHY  it  seems  like  a  curious  affair,  sure  enoug 
George  ! 

u  BUT,  Pa,  who  did  make  it  there  ?  who  did  make 
it  there  ?" 

"  IT  grew  there  by  chance,  I  suppose,  my  son. 

"  By  chance,  Pa !  O  no  !  no  !  it  never  did  grow 
there  by  chance,  Pa.  Indeed  that  it  never  did !" 

"  HIGH  !  why  not,  my  son  ?" 

"  WHY,  Pa,  did  you  ever  see  anybody's  name  JP  a 
plant  bed  before  ?" 
B   2 


16  LIKE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

u  WELL,  but  George,  such  a  thing  might  happen, 
though  you  never  saw  it  before. 

4fc  YES,  Pa;  but  I  did  never  see  the  little  plants 
grow  up  so  as  to  make  one  single  letter  of  my  name 
before.  Now,  how  could  they  grow  up  so  as  to  make 
all  the  letters  of  my  name  !  and  then  standing  one 
after  another,  to  spell  my  name  so  exactly  ! — and  all 
so  neat  and  even  too,  at  top  and  bottom  ! !  O  Pa,  you 
must  not  say  chance  did  all  this.  Indeed  somebody 
did  it ;  and  I  dare  say  now,  Pa,  you  did  it  just  to 
scare  me,  because  1  am  your  little  boy." 

His  father  s-miled  ;  and  said,  "  Well  George,  you 
have  guessed  right.  1  indeed  did  it ;  but  not  to  scare 
you,  my  son  ;  but  to  learn  you  a  great  thing  which  I 
wish  you  to  understand.  1  want,  my  son,  to  intro 
duce  you  to  your  true  Father." 

"  HIGH,  Pa,  an't  you  my  true  father,  that  has 
loved  me,  and  been  so  good  to  me  always  ?" 

u  YES,  George,  I  am  your  father,  as  the  world  calls 
it :  and  I  love  you  very  dearly  too.  But  yet  with 
all  my  love  for  you,  George,  I  am  but  a  poor  good- 
for-nothing  sort  of  a  father  in  comparison  of  one  you 
have." 

"  AYE  !  I  know,  well  enough  whom  you  mean, 
Pa.  You  mean  God  Almighty  ;  don't  you  ?" 

"  YES,  my  son,  I  mean  him  indeed.  He  is  you,r 
true  Father,  George." 

"  BUT,  Pa,  where  is  God  Almighty  ?  I  did  never 
9ce  him  yet." 

"  True  my  son ;  but  though  you  never  saw  him, 
yet  he  is  always  with  you.  You  did  not  see  me  when 
ten  days  ago  I  made  this  little  plant  bed,  where  you 
see  your  name  in  such  beautiful  green  letters  :  but 
though  you  did  not  see  me  here,  yet  you  know  I  wat 
here!!" 

"  YES,  Pa,  that  I  do.  I  know  you  was  here." 

"  WELL  then,  and  as  my  son  could  not  believe 
that  chance  had  made  and  put  together  so  exactly 
the  letters  of  his  name,  (though  only  sixteen)  then 
how  can  he  believe,  that  chance  could  have  nude  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  17 

put  together  all  those  millions  and  millions  of  things 
that  are  now  so  exactly  fitted  to  his  good  !  That  my 
son  may  look  at  every  thing  around  him,  see  !  what 
fine  eyes  he  has  got  !  and  a  little  pug  nose  to  smell 
the  sweet  flowers  !  and  pretty  ears  to  hear  sweet 
sounds  !  and  a  lovely  mouth  for  his  bread  and  butter  ! 
and  O,  the  little  ivory  teeth  to  cut  it  for  him  !  and 
the  dear  little  tongue  to  prattle  with  his  father  !  and 
precious  little  hands  and  fingers  to  hold  his  play 
things  I  and  beautiful  little  feet  for  him  to  run  about 
upon  !  and  when  my  little  rogue  of  a  son  is  tired 
with  running  about,  then  the  still  night  comes  foi 
him  to  lie  down  :  and  his  mother  sings,  and  the  little 
crickets  chirp  him  to  sleep  !  and  as  soon  as  he  has 
slept  enough,  and  jumps  up  fresh  and  strong  as  a 
little  buck,  there  the  sweet  golden  light  is  ready  for 
him  !  When  he  looks  down  into  the  water,  there  he 
sees  the  beautiful  silver  fishes  for  him  !  and  up  in  the 
trees  there  are  the  apples,  and  peaches,  and  thousands 
of  sweet  fruits  for  him  !  and  #//,  all  around  him, 
wherever  my  dear  boy  looks,  he  sees  every  thing  just 
to  his  "wants  and  -wishes  ; — the  bubbling  springs  with 
cool  sweet  water  for  him  to  drink  !  and  the  wood  to 
make  him  sparkling  fires  when  he  is  cold  !  and  beau 
tiful  horses  for  him  to  ride  !  and  strong  oxen  to  work 
for  him  !  and  the  good  cow  to  give  him  milk  !  and 
bees  to  make  sweet  hone  for  his  sweeter  mouth  ! 
and  the  little  lambs,  with  snowy  wool,  for  beautiful 
clothes  for  him  !  Now,  these  and  all  the  ten  thou 
sand  thousand  other  good  things  more  than  my  son 
can  ever  think  of,  and  all  so  exactly  fitted  to  his  use 
and  delight — Now  how  could  chance  ever  have  done 
all  this  for  my  little  son  i  Oh  George  !— - 

HE  would  have  gone  on :  but  George,  who  had 
hung  upon  his  father's  words  with  looks  and  eyes  of 
all-devouring  attention,  here  broke  out — 

"OH,  Pa,  that's  enough  !  that's  enough !  It  can't 
be  chance,  indeed — it  can't  be  chance,  that  made  and 
gave  me  all  these  things.' 


18  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  WHAT  was  it  then,  do  you  think,  my  son  ?" 

"  INDEED,  Pa,  I  don't  know,  unless  it  was  God 
Almighty  !" 

"  YES,  George,  he  it  was,  my  son,  and  nobody 
else." 

"  WELL,  but  Pa,  (continued  George)  does  God 
Almighty  give  me  every  thing  ?  Don't  you  give  me 
some  things,  Pa  ?" 

"  I  GIVE  you  something  indeed !  Oh  how  can  I 
give  you  any  thing,  George !  I  who  have  nothing  on 
earth  that  I  can  call  my  own,  no,  not  even  the  breath 
I  draw  !" 

"  HIGH,  Pa !  is'nt  that  great  big  house  your 
house,  and  this  garden,  and  the  horses  yonder,  and 
oxen,  and  sheep,  and  trees,  and  every  thing,  is'nt  all 
yours,  Pa  ?" 

u  OH  no  !  my  son  !  no !  why  you  make  me  shrink 
into  nothing,  George,  when  you  talk  of  all  these 
belonging  to  me,  who  can't  even  make  a  grain  of 
sand !  Oh,  how  could  I,  my  son,  have  given  life  to 
those  great  oxen  and  horses,  when  I  can't  give  life 
even  to  a  fly  ? — no  !  for  if  the  poorest  fly  were  killed, 
it  is  not  your  father,  George,  nor  all  the  men  in  the 
world,  that  could  ever  make  him  alive  again !" 

AT  this,  George  fell  into  a  profound  silence,  while 
his  pensive  looks  showed  that  his  youthful  soul  was 
labouring  with  some  idea  never  felt  before.  Per 
haps  it  was  at  that  moment,  that  the  good  Spirit  of 
God  ingrafted  on  his  heart  that  germ  of  piety,  which 
filled  his  after  life  with  so  many  of  the  precious  fruits 
of  morality. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  19 


CHAPTER  III. 

George's  father  dies — his  education  continued  by  bis 
mother— his  behaviour  under  school-master  Wil 
liams. 

THUS  pleasantly,  on  wings  of  down,  passed 
away  the  few  short  years  of  little  George's  and  his 
father's  earthly  acquaintance.  Sweetly  ruled  by  the 
sceptre  of  REASON,  George  almost  adored  his  father: 
and  thus  sweetly  obeyed  with  all  the  cheerfulness  of 
LOVE,  his  father  doated  on  George.. ..And  though 
very  different  in  their  years,  yet  parental  and  filial 
love  rendered  them  so  mutually  dear,  that  the  old 
gentleman  was  often  heard  to  regret,  that  the  school 
took  his  little  companion  so  much  from  him — v/hile 
George,  on  the  other  hand,  would  often  quit  his  play 
mates  to  run  home  and  converse  with  his  more  be 
loved  father. 

BUT  George  was  not  long  to  enjoy  the  pleasure 
or  the  profit  of  such  a  companion  ;  for  scarcely  had 
he  attained  his  tenth  year,  before  his  father  was  seiz 
ed  with  the  gout  in  his  stomach,  which  carried  him 
off  in  a  few  days.  George  was  not  at  home  when  his 
father  was  taken  ill.  He  was  on  a  visit  to  some  of  his 
cousins  in  Chotank,  about  twenty  miles  off:  and  his 
father,  unwilling  to  interrupt  his  pleasures,  (for  it 
was  but  seldom  that  he  visited)  would  not  at  first  al 
low  him  to  be  sent  for.  But  finding  that  he  was  go 
ing  very  fast,  he  begged  that  they  would  send  for 
him  in  all  haste.  He  often  asked  if  he  was  come  ; 
and  said  how  happy  he  should  be  once  more  to  see 
his  little  son,  and  give  him  his  blessing  before  he 
died.  But  alas  !  he  never  enjoyed  that  last  mourn 
ful  pleasure  ;  for  George  did  not  reach  home  until  a 
few  hours  before  his  father's  death  :  and  then  he  was 
speechless  !  The  moment  he  alighted,  he  ran  into 
the  chamber  where  he  lav.  But  oh  '  what  were  his 


20  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

feelings  when  he  saw  the  sad  change  that  had  pass 
ed  upon  him !  when  he  beheld  those  eyes,  late  so 
bright  and  fond,  now  reft  of  all  their  lustre,  faintly 
looking  on  him  from  their  hollow  sockets,  and 
through  swelling  tears,  in  mute  but  melting  lan 
guage,  bidding  him  a  LAST,  LAST  FAREWELL  ! 

Rushing  with  sobs  and  cries,  he  fell  upon  his  father's 
neck  he  kissed  him  a  thousand  and  a  thousand 
times,  and  bathed  his  clay-cold  face  with  scalding 
tears.  ^ 

O  HAPPIEST  YOUTH  !  Happiest  in  that  love,  which 
thus,  to  its  enamoured  soul  strained  an  aged,  an  ex 
piring  sire.  O  !  worthiest  to  be  the  founder  of  a 
JUST  and  EQJJAL  GOVERNMENT  lasting  as  thy  own 
deathless  name !  And  O  !  happiest  old  man !  thus 
luxuriously  expiring  in  the  arms  of  such  a  child ! 
O  !  well  requited  for  teaching  him  that  LOVE  OF 
HIS  GOD  (the  only  fountain  of  every  virtuous  love) 
in  return  for  which  he  gave  thee  ('twas  all  he  had) 
himself — his  fondest  company — his  sweetest  looks 
and  prattle.  He  now  gives  thee  his  little  feeble  em 
braces.  With  artless  sighs  and  tears,  faithful  to  thee 
still,  his  feet  will  follow  thee  to  thy  grave :  and 
when  thy  beloved  corse  is  let  down  to  the  stones  of 
the  pit,  with  streaming  eyes  he  will  rush  to  the 
brink,  to  take  one  more  look,  while  his  bursting 
heart  will  give  thee  its  last  trembling  cry  O  my 
father  !  my  father  ! 

BUT,  though  he  had  lost  his  best  of  friends,  yet  he 
never  lost  those  divine  sentiments  which  that  friend 
had  so  carefully  inculcated.  On  the  contrary,  inter 
woven  with  the  fibres  of  his  heart,  they  seemed  to 
"  grow  with  his  growth,  and  to  strengthen  with  his 
strength."  The  memory  of  his  father,  often  bathed 
with  a  tear — the  memory  of  his  father,  now  sleeping 
in  his  grave,  was  felt  to  impose  a  more  sacred  ob 
ligation  to  do  whatever  he  knew  would  rejoice  his 
departed  shade.  This  was  very  happily  displayed, 
in  every  part  of  his  deportment,  from  the  moment 
of  his  earliest  intercourse  with  mankind. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  21 

Soon  after  the  death  of  his  father,  his  mother  sent 
him  down  to  Westmoreland,  the  place  of  his  nativity, 
where  he  lived  with  his  half-brother  Augustine,  and 
went  to  school  to  a  Mr.  Williams,  an  excellent  teach 
er  in  that  neighbourhood.  He  carried  with  him  his 
virtues,  his  zeal  for  unblemished  character,  his  love  of 
truth,  and  detestation  of  whatever  was  false  and  base. 
A  gilt  chariot  with  richest  robes  and  liveried  servants, 
could  not  half  so  substantially  have  befriended  him  ; 
for  in  a  very  short  time,  so  completely  had  his  vir 
tues  secured  the  love  and  confidence  of  the  boys,  his 
word  was  just  as  current  among  them  as  a  law.  A 
very  aged  gentleman,  formerly  a  school  mate  of  his, 
has  often  assured  me,  (while  pleasing  recollection 
brightened  his  furrowed  cheeks,)  that  nothing  was 
more  common,  when  the  boys  were  in  high  dispute 
about  a  question  of  fact,  than  for  some  little  shaver 
among  the  mimic  heroes,  to  call  out,  u  well  boys  ! 
George  Washington  was  there  ;  George  Washington 
was  there.  He  knows  all  about  it :  and  if  he  don't  say 
it  was  so,  then  we  will  give  it  up." — "Done,"  said  the 
adverse  party.  Then  away  they  would  trot  to  hunt 
for  George.  Soon  as  his  verdict  was  heard,  the  par 
ty  favoured  would  begin  to  crow,  and  then  all  hands 
would  return  to  play  again. 

ABOUT  five  years  after  the  death  of  his  father,  he 
quitted  school  for  ever,  leaving  the  boys  in  tears  for 
his  departure  :  for  he  had  ever  lived  among  them,  in 
the  spirit  of  a  brother.  He  was  never  guilty  of  so 
brutish  a  practice  as  that  of  fighting  himself;  nor 
would  he,  when  able  to  prevent  it,  allow  them  to 
fight  one  another.  If  he  could  not  disarm  their  sa 
vage  passions  by  his  arguments,  he  would  instantly 
go  to  the  master,  and  inform  him  of  their  barbarous 
intentions. 

"  THE  boys,"  said  the  same  good  old  gentleman, 
41  were  often  angry  with  George  for  this." — But  he 
used  to  say,  "  angry  or  not  angry,  you  shall  never, 
boys,  have  my  consent  to  a  practice  so  shocking  ! 
shocking  even  in  slaves  and  dogs ;  then  how  utterly 


22  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON, 

scandalous  in  little  boys  at  school,  who  ought  to  look 
on  one  another  as  brothers.  And  what  must  be  the 
feelings  of  our  tender  parents,  when,  instead  of  see 
ing  us  come  home  smiling  and  lovely,  as  the  JOY  OF 
THEIR  HEARTS  !  they  see  us  creeping  in  like  young 
blackguards,  with  our  heads  bound  up,  black  eyes, 
and  bloody  clothes  !  And  what  is  all  this  for  ?  Why, 
that  we  may  get  praise  !  !  But  the  truth  is,  a  quarrel 
some  boy  was  never  sincerely  praised  !  Big  boys,  of 
the  vulgar  sort,  indeed  may  praise  him  :  but  it  is 
only  as  they  would  a  silly  game  cock,  that  fights  for 
their  pastime  :  and  the  little  boys  are  sure  to  praise 
him,  but  it  is  only  as  they  would  a  bull  dog— to  keep 
him  from  tearing  them  ! !" 

SOME  of  his  historians  have  said,  and  many  be 
lieve,  that  Washington  was  a  Latin  scholar  !  But  'tis 
an  error.  He  never  learned  a  syllable  of  Latin.  His 
second  and  last  teacher,  Mr.  Williams,  was  indeed 
a  capital  hand— but  not  at  Latin  ;  for  of  that  he  un 
derstood  perhaps  as  little  as  Balaam's  ass.  But  at 
reading,  spelling,  English  grammar,  arithmetic,  sur 
veying,  book  keeping,  and  geography,  he  was  indeed 
famous.  And  in  these  useful  arts,  'tis  said  he  often 
boasted  that  he  had  made  young  George  Washington 
as  great  a  scholar  as  himself. 

BORN  to  be  a  soldier,  Washington  early  discover 
ed  symptoms  of  liatuTeV  Intentions  towards  him. 
In  his  llth  year,  while  at  school  under  old  Mr.  Hob 
by,  he  used  to  divide  his  play-mates  into  two  par 
ties  or  armies.  One  of  these,  for  distinction  sake, 
was  called  French,  the  other  American.  A  big  boy 
at  the  school,  named  William  Bustle,  commanded 
the  former  \  George  commanded  the  latter.  And 
every  day,  at  play-time,  with  corn-stalks  for  muskets, 
and  calabashes  for  drums,  the  two  armies  would 
turn  out,  and  march,  and  counter-march,  and  file  off 
or  fight  their  mimic  battles,  with  great  fury.  This 
was  fine  sport  for  George,  whose  passion  for  active 
exercise  was  so  strong,  that  at  play-time  no  weather 
cauld  keep  him  within  doors*  His  fair  cousins,  who 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  23 

visited  at  his  mother's,  used  to  complain,  that 
"  George  was  not  fond  of  their  company,  like  other 
boys  ;  but.soon  as  he  had  got  his  task,  would  run  out 
to  play."  But  such  trifling  play  as  marbles  and  tops  he 
could  never  endure.  They  did  not  afford  him  exer 
cise  enough.  His  delight  was  in  that  of  the  manlies 
sort,  which?  by  stringing  the  limbs  and  swelling  the 
muscles,  promotes  the  kindliest  flow  of  blood  and 
spirits.  At  jumping  with  a  long  pole,  or  heavh  < 
heavy  weights,  for  his  years  he  hardly  had  an  equal. 
And  as  to  running,  the  swift-footed  Achilles  could 
scarcely  have  matched  his  speed. 

"  EGAD  !  he  ran  wonderfully,"  said  my  amiable 
and  aged  friend,  John  Fitzhugh,  esq.  who  knew  him 
well.  "  We  had  nobody  here-abouts,  that  could  come 
near  him.  There  was  a  young  Langhorn  Dade,  of 
Westmoreland,  a  confounded  clean  made,  tight  young 
fellow,  and  a  mighty  swift  runner  too.  But  then  he  was 
no  match  for  George.  Langy,  indeed,  did  not  like  to 
give  it  up  ;  and  would  brag  that  he  had  sometimes 
brought  George  to  a  tie.  But  I  believe  he  was  mista 
ken  :  for  I  have  seen  them  run  together  many  a  time  ; 
and  George  always  beat  him  easy  enough." 

Col.  Lewis  Willis,  his  play-mate  an-d  kinsman, 
has  been  heard  to  say,  that  he  has  often  seen  him 
throw  a  stone  across  Rappahannock,  at  the  lower 
ferry  of  Fredericksburg.  It  would  be  no  easy  mat 
ter  to  find  a  man,  now  a-days,  who  could  do  it. 

INDEED  his  father  before  him  was  a  man  of  ex 
traordinary  strength.  His  gun,  which  to  this  day  is 
called  Washington's  fowling-piece,  and  is  now  the  pro 
perty  of  Mr.  Harry  Fitzhugh,  of  Chotank,  is  of  such 
enormous  weight,  that  not  one  man  in  fifty  can  fire  it 
without  a  rest.  And  yet  throughout  that  country  it 
is  said,  that  he  made  nothing  of  holding  it  off  at  arms- 
length,  and  blazing  away  at  the  swans  on  Potomack  ; 
of  which  he  has  been  known  to  kill,  rank  and  file, 
seven  or  eight  at  a  shot 

BUT  to  return  to  George.     It  appears  that  from 
the  start  he  was  a  boy  of  an  uncommonly  warm  and 
C 


*4  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

noble  heart :  insomuch  that  Lawrence,  though  but 
his  half-brother,  took  such  a  liking  to  him,  even 
above  his  own  brother  Augustine,  that  he  would  al 
ways  have  George  with  him  when  he  could;  and  often 
pressed  him  to  come  and  live  with  him.  But,  as  if  led 
by  some  secret  impulse,  George  declined  the  offer,  and 
as  we  have  seen,  went  to  work,  in  the  back  woods,  as 
Lord  Fairfax's  surveyor !  However,  when  Lawrence 
was  taken  with  the  comsumption,  and  advised  by  his 
physicans  to  make  a  trip  to  Burmuda,  George  could 
not  resist  any  longer,  but  hastened  down  to  his  brother 
at  Mount  Vernon,  and  went  with  him  to  Burmuda. 
It  was  at  Burmuda  that  George  took  the  small-pox, 
which  marked  him  rather  agreeably  than  otherwise. 
Lawrence  never  recovered,  but  returned  to  Virginia, 
where  he  died  just  after  his  brother  George  had 
fought  his  hard  battle  against  the  French  and  In 
dians,  at  Fort  Necessity,  as  the  reader  will  pre 
sently  learn. 

LAWRENCE  did  not  live  to  see  George  after  that; 
but  he  lived  to  hear  of  his  fame  ;  for  as  the  French 
and  Indians  were  at  that  time  a  great  public  terror, 
the  people  could  not  help  being  very  loud  in  their 
praise  of  a  youth,  who,  with  so  slender  a  force,  had 
dared  to  meet  them  in  their  own  country,  and  had 
given  them  such  a  check. 

AND  when  Lawrence  heard  of  his  favourite  young 
brother,  that  he  had  fought  so  gallantly  for  his  coun 
try,  and  that  the  whole  land  was  filled  with  his  praise, 
he  wept  for  joy.  And  such  is  the  victory  of  love 
over  nature,  that  though  fast  sinking  under  the  fever 
and  cough  of  a  consumption  in  its  extreme  stage,  he 
did  not  seem  to  mind  it,  but  spent  his  last  moments 
in  fondly  talking  of  his  brother  George,  who,  he 
said,  "  he  had  always  believed,  would  one  day  or 
other  be  a  great  man  !" 

ON  opening  his  will,  it  was  found  that  George  had 
lost  nothing  by  his  dutiful  and  affectionate  behaviour 
to  his  brother  Lawrence.  For  having  now  no  issue, 
(his  only  child,  a  little  daughter,  lately  dying)  he  left 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  25 

to  George  all  his  rich  lands  in  Berkley,  together  with 
his  great  estate  on  Potomac,  called  MOUNT  VERNOI*, 
in  honour  of  old  Admiral  Vernon,  by  whom  he  had 
been  treated  with  great  politeness,  while  a  volunteer 
with  him  at  the  unfortunate  siege  of  Carthagena,  in 

mi. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

George  leaves  school — is  appointed  a  private  surveyor 
to  Lord  Fairfax,  cf  the  Northern  Neck — wishes  to 
enter  on  hoard  of  a  British  man  of  war — providen 
tially  prevented  by  his  mother — the  first  lightnings 
of  his  soul  to  war. 

HAPPILY  for  America,  George  Washington 
was  not  born  with  u  a  silver  spoon  in  his  mouth." 
The  Rappahannock  plantation  left  him  by  his  father, 
was  only  in  reversion — and  his  mother  was  still  in 
her  prime.  Seeing  then  no  chance  of  ever  rising  in 
the  world  but  by  his  own  merit,  on  leaving  school 
he  went  up  to  Fairfax  to  see  his  brother  Lawrence  ; 
with  whom  he  found  Mr.  William  Fairfax,  one  of 
the  governor's  council,  who  was  come  up  on  a  visit 
to  his  sister,  whom  Lawrence  had  married.  The 
counsellor  presently  took  a  great  liking  to  George  ; 
and  hearing  him  express  a  wish  to  get  employment 
as  a  surveyor,  introduced  him  to  his  relative,  lord 
Fairfax,  the  wealthy  proprietor  of  all  those  lands  ge 
nerally  called  the  Northern  Neck,  lying  between  the 
Potomac  and  Rappahannock,  and  extending  from 
Smith's  Point  on  the  Chesapeake,  to  the  foot  of  the 
Great  Alleghany.  At  the  instance  of  the  counsellor, 
Lord  Fairfax  readily  engaged  George  as4a  survey- 


26  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

or ;  and  sent  him  up  into  the  back-woods  to  work.  He 
continued  in  his  lordship's  service  till  his  20th  year, 
closely  pursuing  the  laborious  life  of  a  woodsman. 

FROM  the  manner  in  which  Washington  used  to 
amuse  his  leisure  hours  during  this  period,  one  is 
almost  inclined  to  think  that  he  had  a  presentiment 
of  the  great  labours  that  lay  before  him.  While  in 
Frederick,  which  at  that  time  was  very  large,  con 
taining  the  counties  now  called  Berkley,  Jefferson, 
and  Shenandoah,  he  boarded  in  the  house  of  the  wi 
dow  Stevenson,  generally  pronounced  Stinson.  This 
lady  had  seven  sons — William  and  Valentine  Craw 
ford,  by  her  first  husband ;  and  John,  and  Hugh, 
and  Dick,  and  Jim,  and  Mark  Stinson,  by  her  last 
husband.  These  seven  young  men,  in  Herculean 
size  and  strength,  were  equal,  perhaps,  to  any  seven 
sons  of  any  one  mother  in  Christendom.  This  was 
a  family  exactly  to  George's  mind,  because  promis 
ing  him  an  abundance  of  that  manly  exercise  in 
which  he  delighted.  In  front  of  the  house  lay  a  fine 
extended  green,  with  a  square  of  several  hundred 
yards.  Here  it  was  every  evening,  when  his  daily 
toils  of  surveying  were  ended,  that  George,  like  a 
young  Greek  training  for  the  Olympic  games,  used 
to  turn  out  with  his  sturdy  young  companions,  u  to 
see"  as  they  termed  it,  "  -which  was  the  best  man*9 
at  running,  jumping,  and  wrestling.  And  so  keen 
was  their  passion  for  these  sports,  and  so  great  their 
ambition  to  excel  each  other,  that  they  would  often 
persist,  especially  on  moon-shining  nights,  till  bed 
time.  The  Crawfords  and  Stinsons,  though  not  tall 
er  than  George,  were  much  heavier  men  ;  so  that  at 
wrestling,  and  particularly  at  the  close  or  I'.dian  hug, 
he  seldom  gained  much  matter  of  triurr  n.  But  in 
all  trials  of  agility >  they  stood  no  charce  with  him  ! 
FROM  these  Frederick  county  gymnastics  or  ex 
ercises,  there  followed  an  effect  which  shews  the  very 
wide  difference  between  participating  in  innocent 
and  guilty  pleasures.  While  companions  in  raking 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  27 

and  gambling,  heartily  despise  and  hate  one  another, 
and,  when  they  meet  in  the  streets,  pass  each  other 
with  looks  as  cold  and  shy  as  sheep-thieving  curs — 
these  virtuous  young  men,  by  spending  their  even 
ings  together,  in  innocent  and  manly  exercises,  con 
tracted  a  friendship  which  lasted  for  life.  When 
George,  twenty-five  years  after  this,  was  called  to 
lead  the  American  armies,  he  did  not  forget  his  old 
friends,  the  Stinsons  and  Crawfords  ;  but  gave  com 
missions  to  all  of  them  who  chose  to  join  his  army  ; 
which  several  of  them  did.  William  Crawford,  the 
eldest  of  them,  and  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  should 
ered  a  musket,  was  advanced  as  high  as  the  rank  of 
colonel,  when  he  was  burnt  to  death  by  the  Indians 
at  Sandusky.  And  equally  cordial  was  the  love  of 
these  young  men  towards  George,  of  whom  they 
always  spoke  as  of  a  brother.  Indeed,  Hugh  Stin- 
son,  the  second  brother,  who  had  a  way  of  snapping 
his  eyes  when  he  talked  of  any  thing  that  greatly 
pleased  him,  used  to  brighten  up  at  the  name  of 
Washington ;  and  would  tell  his  friends,  that  *'  he  and 
his  brother  yohn  had  often  laid  the  conqueror  ofEng~ 
land  on  his  back  j"  but  at  the  same  time,  would 
agree,  that,  u  in  running  and  jumping'  they  were  no 
match  for  him." 

SUCH  was  the  way  in  which  George  spent  his 
leisure  hours  in  the  service  of  Lord  Fairfax.  Little 
did  the  old  gentleman  expect  that  he  was  educating 
a  youth,  who  should  one  day  dismember  the  British 
empire,  and  break  his  own  heart — which  truly  came 
to  pass.  For  on  hearing  that  Washington  had  cap 
tured  Cornwallis  and  all  his  army,  he  called  out  to 
his  black  waiter,  ft  Come-)  Joe  !  carry  me  to  my  bed 
for  Tm  sure  9tis  high  time  for  me  to  die  /'* 

Then  up  rose  Joe,  all  at  the  word 

And  took  his  master's  arm, 
Ai  d  to  his  bed  he  softly  led, 

The  lord  of  Green-way  farm' 

C  2 


28  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

There  oft  he  call'd  on  Britain's  name,' 
<c  And  oft  he  wept  full  sore." — 

Then  sigh'd — thy  will,  O  Lord  be  done — 
"  And  word  spake  never  more." 

IT  was  in  his  15th  year,  according  to  the  best  of 
my  information,  that  Washington  first  felt  the  kind 
lings  of  his  soul  for  war.  The  cause  was  this — In 
those  days  the  people  of  Virginia  looked  on  Great 
Britain  as  the  mother  country  ;  and  to  go  thither  was, 
in  common  phrase,  "  to  go  home"  The  name  of  OLD 
ENGLAND  was  music  in  their  ears:  and  the  bare  men 
tion  of  a  blow  meditated  against  her,  never  failed  to 
rouse  a  something  at  the  heart,  which  instantly  flam 
ed  on  the  cheek,  and  flashed  in  the  eye.  Washington 
had  his  full  share  of  these  virtuous  feelings :  on  hear 
ing,  therefore,  that  France  and  Spain  were  mustering 
a  black  cloud  over  his  MOTHER  COUNTRY,  his  youth 
ful  blood  took  fire;  and  he  instantly  tendered  what 
aid  his  little  arm  could  afford.  The  rank  of  mid 
shipman  was  procured  for  him  on  board  a  British 
ship  of  war,  then  lying  in  our  waters  ;  and  his  trunk 
and  clothes  were  actually  sent  on  board.  But  when 
he  came  to  take  leave  of  his  mother,  she  wept  bitter 
ly,  and  told  him,  she  felt  that  her  heart  would  break 
if  he  left  her.  George  immediately  got  his  trunk 
ashore  !  as  he  could  not,  for  a  Moment,  bear  the  idea 
of  inflicting  a  wound  on  that  dear  life  which  had  so 
long  and  so  fondly  sustained  his  own. 

WHERE  George  got  his  great  military  talents,  is 
a  question  which  none  but  the  happy  believers  in  a 
particular  Providence  can  solve :  certain  it  is,  his 
earthly  parents  had  no  hand  in  it.  For  of  his  father, 
radition  says  nothing,  save  that  he  was  a  most  amia 
ble  old  gentleman  ;  one  who  made  good  crops,  and 
scorned  to  give  his  name  to  the  quill-drivers  of  a 
counting-room.  And  as  to  his  mother,  it  is  well 
known  that  she  was  none  of  Bellona's  fiery  race.  For 
as  some  of  the  Virginia  officers,  just  afvsr  the  splendid 
actions  of  Trenton  and  Princeton,  were  compliment* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  29 

ing  her  on  the  generalship  and  rising  glory  of  her 
son,  instead  of  shewing  the  exultation  of  a  Spartan 
dame,  she  replied,  with  all  the  sang  froid  of  a  good 
old  Friend,  <c  Ah,  dear  me  !  This  fighting  and  kill 
ing  is  a  sad  thing .'  I  wish  George  ^vould  come  home 
and  look  after  his  plantation  .'/" 

NOR  does  it  appear  that  nature  had  mixed  much 
of  gunpowder  in  the  composition  of  any  of  his  bro 
thers  :  for  when  one  of  them,  in  the  time  of  Brad- 
dock's  war,  wrote  him  a  letter,  signifying  something 
like  a  wish  to  enter  into  the  service ;  George,  it  is 
said,  gave  him  this  short  reply  :  u  Brother,  stay  at 
home,  and  comfort  your  -wife" 

BUT  though  not  destined  to  figure  on  the  quarter 
deck  of  a  man  of  war,  yet  he  ceased  not  to  cultivate 
that  talent  which  had  been  given  for  higher  uses. 
From  adjutant  Muse,  a  Westmoreland  volunteer, 
who  had  gained  much  credi,t  in  the  war  of  Cuba, 
whence  he  had  lately  returned  with  Lawrence  Wash 
ington,  he  learnt  to  go  through  the  manual  exercise 
with  great  dexterity.  By  the  help  of  good  trea 
tises  on  the  art  of  war,  which  were  put  into  his  hands 
by  the  same  gentleman,  he  soon  acquired  very  clear 
ideas  of  the  evolutions  and  movements  of  troops. 
And  from  Mons.  Vanbraam,  who  afterwards  accom 
panied  him  as  interpreter  to  Venango,  he  acquired 
the  art  of  fencing,  at  which,  it  is  said,  he  was  ex 
tremely  expert,  A  passion,  so  uncommon  for  war, 
joined  to  a  very  manly  appearance,  and  great  digni 
ty  of  character,  could  scarcely  fail  to  attract  on  him 
the  attention  of  the  public.  In  fact  the  public  senti 
ment  was  so  strong  in  his  favour,  that  at  the  green 
age  of  nineteen,  he  was  appointed  major  and  adju 
tant  general  of  the  Virginia  forces  in  the  Northern 
Neck,  when  training,  as  was  expected,  for  imme 
diate  service. 

FOR  his  services  as  an  adjutant  general,  he  was  al 
lowed  by  the  crown  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  per 
annum. 


30  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

French  encroachments  on  the  Ohio — Washington  vo 
lunteers  nis  service  to  governor  Dinwiddie — his 
hazardous  embassy  to  the  French  and  Indians— 
miraculous  escapes — account  of  his  journal—anec 
dote  of  his  modesty. 

IN  the  year  1753  the  people  of  Virginia  were 
alarmed  by  a  report  that  the  French,  aided  by  the 
Indians,  were  erecting  a  long  line  of  military  posts 
on  the  Ohio.  This  manoeuvre,  predicting  no  good 
to  the  ANCIENT  DOMINION,  was  properly  resented 
by  Robert  Dinwiddie,  the  governor,  who  wished 
immediately  in  the  name  of  his  king  to  forbid  the 
measure.  But  how  to  convey  a  letter  to  the  French 
commandant  on  the  Ohio,  was  the  question.  For 
the  whole  country  west  of  the  Blue  Mountains,  was 
one  immeasurable  forest,  from  time  immemorial  the 
gloomy  haunt  of  ravening  beasts  and  of  murderous 
savages.  No  voices  had  ever  broke  the  awful  silence 
of  those  dreary  woods,  save  the  hiss  of  rattlesnakes, 
the  shrieks  of  panthers,  the  yell  of  Indians,  and 
howling  tempests.  From  such  scenes,  though  be 
held  but  by  the  distant  eye  of  fancy,  the  hearts  of 
youth  are  apt  to  shrink  with  terror,  and  to  crouch 
more  closely  to  their  safer  fire-sides.  But  in  the 
firmer  nerves  of  Washington,  they  do  not  appear  to 
have  made  the  least  impression  of  the  agueish  sort. 
The  moment  he  heard  of  the  governor's  wishes,  he 
waited  on  him  with — a  tender  of  his  services. 

"  Now  Christ  save  my  saoul,  but  ye'er  a  brarv 
ladf9  said  the  good  old  Scotchman,  "  and  gin  ye  play 
your  cards  weel,  my  boyy  ye  shall  hae  nae  cause  to 
rue  your  bargain."  The  governor  took  him  to  his 
palace  that  night,  which  was  spent  in  preparing  his 
letters  and  instructions.  The  next  day,  accompanied 
by  an  interpreter  and  a  couple  of  servants,  he  set  out 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  Si 

on  his  journey,  which,  being  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
was  as  disagreeable  and  dangerous  as  Hercules  him 
self  could  have  desired.  Drenching  rains  and  drown  • 
ing  floods,  and  snow-covered  mountains  opposed 
his  course  ;  but  opposed  in  vain.  The  generous  am 
bition  to  serve  his  country,  and  to  distinguish  him 
self,  carried  him  through  all ;  and,  even  at  the  most 
trying  times,  touched  his  heart  with  a  joy  unknown 
to  the  VAIN  and  TRIFLING.  On  his  way  home  he 
was  way-laid  arid  shot  at  by  an  Indian,  who,  though 
not  fifteen  paces  distant,  happily  missed  his  aim.  The 
poor  wretch  was  made  prisoner.  But  Washington 
could  not  find  in  his  heart  to  put  him  to  death,  though 
his  own  safety  seemed  to  require  the  sacrifice.  The 
next  evening,  in  attempting  to  cross  a  river  on  a 
raft,  he  was  within  an  ace  of  being  drowned ;  and, 
the  night  following,  of  perishing  in  the  ice  but  from 
both  these  imminent  deadly  risks,  there  was  a  hand 
unseen  that  effected  his  escape. 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  January  he  returned  to  Wil- 
liamsburgh  ;  and,  instantly  waiting  on  the  governor, 
presented  him  the  fruits  of  his  labours — the  belts  of 
wampum  which  he  had  brought  from  the  Indian 
kings  as  pledges  of  their  friendship — the  French 
governor's  letters — and,  last  of  ail,  his  journal  of  the 
expedition.  This,  it  seems,  he  had  drawn  up  as  a  tub 
for  the  whale,  that  he  might  be  spared  the  pain  of 
much  talking  about  himxclfand  his  adventures.  For 
like  the  king  o.f  Morven, u  though  mighty  deeds  rolled 
from  his  soul  of  fire,  yet  his  ivords  were  never  heard,"* 
The  governor  was  much  pleased  with  the  Indian  belts 
— more  with  the  Frenchman's  letter — but  most  of 
all  with  Washington's  journal,  which  he  proposed  to 
have  printed  immediately.  Washington  begged 
that  his  excellency  would  spare  him  the  mortification 
of  seeing  his  journal  sent  out  into  the  world  in  so 
mean  a  dress.  He  urged,  that  having  been  written 
in  a  wintry  wilderness,  by  atraveller,young,  illiterate, 
and  often  cold,  wet,  and  weary,  it  neevled  a  thousand 
amendments. <l  Hoot  awa,  Major"  replied  his  excel- 


32  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

lency,  "  hoot  awa,  man  ;  -what  tank  ye  aboot  amend- 
"  ments.  I  am  sure  the  pamphlet  need  nae  blush  to 
M  be  seen  by  his  majesty  himsel — and  in  geud  troth  I 
u  mean  to  send  him  a  copy  or  twa  of  it.  And  be 
"  sides  our  Assembly  will  rise  to-morrow  or  next 
u  day,  and  I  wish  each  of  the  members  to  tak  a 
"  few  copies  hiime  with  them.  So  we  must  e'en 
"  strait-way  print  the  journal  offhand  as  it  is." 

THE  journal,  of  course,  was  immediately  printed. 
Every  eye  perused  it :  and  every  tongue  was  loud  in 
its  praise.  Indeed  it  was  not  easy  to  err  on  the  side 
of  excess  ;  for  whoever  with  candour  reads  the  jour 
nal,  will  readily  pronounce  it  an  unique  in  the  histo 
ry  of  juvenile  productions.  It  discovers  that  vigour, 
and  variety  of  talents,  which  take  up,  as  it  were  in 
tuitively,  the  views  belonging  to  any  new  subject  that 
presents  itself.  It  is  the  hasty  production  of  a  young 
man,  born  in  retreats  of  deepest  solitude,  in  a  time 
of  profoundest  peace,  and  brought  up  to  the  simple 
harmless  employment  of  a  surveyor,  an  employment 
\vhich,  more  than  any  other,  tends  to  tranquillize  the 
mind.  The  verdure  and  music  of  the  love-breathing 
spring  ;  the  bright  fields  and  harvests  of  joy-inspir 
ing  summer  ;  the  faded  leaves  and  mournful  silence 
of  autumn,  with  winter's  solemn  grandeur  ;  were  the 
scenes  in  which  the  youth  of  Washington  was  pas 
sed.  In  these  he  hears  the  roar  of  distant  war — from 
these  he  is  sent  forth  to  mark  the  gathering  storm. 
Instantly  he  breathes  the  whole  spirit  of  his  new  en 
gagement — u  Old  thing's  are  done  away :  all  things  are 
become  new"  The  chain  and  theodolite  are  forgotten 
— the  surveyor  is  lost  in  the  soldier.  His  shoulders 
are  young  :  but  they  sustain  the  head  of  an  old  engi 
neer.  He  marks  the  soil,  the  timber,  the  confluence 
of  rivers,  the  sites  for  forts.  In  short,  nothing  con 
nected  with  the  defence  of  his  country  escapes  him. 
He  penetrates  the  characters  of  the  different  people 
around  him — the  low  sensuality  of  the  Indian,  ready, 
for  a  dram,  to  lift  the  tomahawk — the  polished  subtil- 
ties  of  the  European,  who  can  '«  smi/iand  smile  " 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  33 

yet  design  the  death  of  the  traveller.     These  impor 
tant  truths  present  themselves  intuitively  to  his  mind; 
and  shine  with  such  lustre  in  the  pages  of  his  jour 
nal,   as  to  command  the  admiration  of  every  unpre 
judiced  reader. 

AMONG  the  gentlemen  in  Williamsburgh,  who  had 
sense  and  virtue  enough  to  appreciate  the  worth  of 
Washington,  one  of  the  first  was  a  Mr.  Waller. — 
This  gentleman,  conversing  on  that  subject  with 
Mr.  Robertson,  speaker  of  the  house  of  Burgesses, 
observed,  that  such  services  as  those  rendered  by 
Major  Washington,  were  far  too  important  to  be 
paid  off  by  the  light  coin  of  common  parlour  puffs. 
u  This  young  man"  said  he,  "  has  deserved  well  of 
his  country  ;  and  her  Representatives  in  Assembly 
ought  to  acknowledge  the  obligation" —  Thafs  exactly 
my  own  opinion"  replied  Robertson  :  "  and  if  you 
will  let  me  know  when  the.  major  next  visits  us,  I  will 
make  a  motion  to  that  effect" 

THE  next  day,  Washington,  not  having  ever 
dreamt  of  the  honour  intended  him,  entered  the 
house;  and,  going  up  stairs,  took  his  seat  in  the 
gallery.  The  eagle-eyed  friendship  of  Mr.  Waller 
quickly  discovered  him  ;  and  stepping  to  the  chair, 
whispered  it  to  Mr.  Robertson  ;  who  instantly  arose, 
and  ordering  silence,  called  out :  4<  Gentlemen,  it  is 
proposed  that  the  thanks  of  this  HOUSE  be  given  to 
Major  Washington,  who  now  sits  in  the  gallery,  for 
the  very  gallant  manner  in  which  he  executed  the 
important  trust  lately  reposed  in  him  by  his  excellen 
cy  governor  Dinwiddie."  In  a  moment  the  HOUSE 
rose  as  one  man  ;  and  turning  towards  Washington, 
saluted  him  with  a  general  bow  ;  and,  in  very  flatter 
ing  terms,  expressed  their  high  sense  of  his  services. 
— Had  an  earthquake  shaken  the  capitol  to  the  centre^ 
it  could  hardly  have  so  completely  confounded.']^ 
major!  He  rose  to  make  his  acknowledgments,  but\ 
alas  !  his  tongue  had  forgotten  its  office.  Thrice  he 
essayed  to  speak  :  but  thrice,  in  spite  of  every  effort, 
his  utterance  failed  him,  save  faintly  to  articulate, 


34  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

u  Mr.  Speaker,  Mr.  Speaker  .'"  To  relieve  him  from 
his  embarrassment,  Mr.  Robertson  kindly  called  out, 
"  Major  Washington,  Major. Washington,  sit  down  ; 
your  modesty  alone  is  equal  to  your  merit." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  French  and  Indian  -war  begins — Washington 
goes  forth  to  meet  the  dangers  of  his  country — aims 
a  blow  at  Fort  Du  ^iiesne — -fails — gallant  defence 
of  Fort  Necessity — retires  from  the  service  in  dis 
gust — pressed  into  it  again  by  General  Braddock — 
defeat  and  death  of  Braddock,  and  dreadful  slaugh 
ter  of  his  army. 

"  WELL,  WHAT  is  TO  COME,  WILL  COME!"  said 
poor  Paddy,  when  going  to  the  gallows.  Even  so 
was  come,  as  would  seem,  the  time  that  was  to  come 
for  *-<  kings  to  go  forth  to  battle"  The  truth  is,  num 
bers  of  poor  tax-ground,  and  thence  uneducated  and 
half-starved  wretches  in  Britain  and  France,  were 
become  diseased  with  a  mortal  cachexy  or  surcharge 
of  bad  humours  ;  such  as  gambling,  swindling,  horse 
stealing,  highway  robbing,  &c.  which  nothing  but 
the  saturnine  pills  and  steel  points  of  Mars  could  ef 
fectually  carry  off.  Thus  in  all  corrupted  govern 
ments  WAR  is  considered  as  a  necessary  evil.  It  was 
no  doubt  necessary  then. 

SUCH  was  the  remote  cause.  The  proximate  histo 
ry  ,.or  how  the  dance  begun,  we  now  proceed  to  relate* 

WE  have  just  seen  that  the  French,  pouring 
down  from  the  lakes  of  Canada,  thick  as  autumnal 
geese,  were  dashing  away  on  the  Ohio,  at  an  alarm 
ing  rate — multiplying  forts — holding  TALKS — and 
strengthening  their  alliances  with  the  Indians.  And 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  35 

we  have  seen,  that  Washington,  with  letters  from 
governor  Dinwiddie,  had  been  out  among  the  PAR- 
LEZVOUS,  conjuring  them  by  every  thing  venerable 
in  treaties,  or  valuable  in  peace,  to  desist  from  such 
unwarrantable  measures.  But  all  to  no  purpose : 
for  the  French  commandant,  smiling  at  Washington, 
as  a  green  horn,  and  at  Dinwiddie  as  an  oldfool,  con 
tinued  his  operations  as  vigorously  as  though  he 
knew  not  that  the  country  in  question  made  a  part  of 
the  British  empire. 

SWIFT  as  the  broad- winged  packets  could  fly  across 
the  deep,  the  news  was  carried  to  England. — Its  ef 
fect  there  was  like  that  of  a  stone  rudely  hurled 
against  a  nest  of  hornets.  Instantly,  from  centre  to 
circumference,  all  is  rage  and  bustle — the  hive  re 
sounds  with  the  maddening  insects.  Dark  tumbling 
from  their  cells  they  spread  the  hasty  wing,  and 
shrill  whizzing  through  the  air,  they  rush  to  find  tht 
foe.  Just  so  in  the  sea-ruling  island,  from  queens 
house  to  ale-house,  from  king  to  cockney,  all  were  fierce 
for  fight.  Even  the  red-nosed  porters  where  they 
met,  bending  under  their  burdens,  would  stop  in  the 
streets,  to  talk  of  ENGLAND'S  WRONGS  :  and,  as  they 
talked,  their  fiery  snouts  were  seen  to  g/ow  more 
fiery  still,  and  more  deformed.  Then  throwing  their 
packs  to  the  ground,  and  leaping  into  the  attitude  of 
boxers,  with  sturdy  arms  across,  and  rough  black 
jaws  stretched  out,  they  bend  forward  to  the'fancied 
fight  '  The  frog-eating  few,  in  shirtless  ruffles  aid 
long  lank  queue,  seems  to  give  grouiid !  then  rising  in 
their  might,  with  fire-striking  eyes  they  press  hard 
upon  him  ;  and  coming  in,  hand  and  foot,  with  kick 
and  cuff  and  many  a  hearty  curse,  they  shew  the  GIG 
GLING  CROWD,  how,  damn  'em  they  would  thump 
the  French. 

THE  news  was  brought  to  Britain's  king  just  as 
he  had  dispatched  his  pudding  ;  and  sat,  right  royally 
amusing  himself  with  a  slice  of  Gloucester  and  a 
nip  of  ale.  From  the  lips  of  the  king  down  fell  the 
kickless  cheese,  alas  !  not  grac'd  to  comfort  the  sto- 


36  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

mach  of  the  Lord's  anointed  ;  while,  crowned  with 
snowy  foam,  his  nut-brown  ale  stood  untasted  beside 
his  plate.  Suddenly  as  he  heard  the  news,  the 
monarch  darkened  in  his  place  :  and  answering  dark 
ness  shrouded  all  his  court. 

IN  silence  he  rolled  his  eyes  of  fire  on  the  floor, 
and  twirled  his  terrible  thumbs  /  his  pages  shrunk 
from  his  presence ;  for  who  could  stand  before  the 
king  of  thundering  ships,  when  wrath,  in  gleams  of 
lightning,  flashed  from  his  **  dark  red  eyes  f"  Start 
ing  at  length,  as  from  a  trance,  he  swallowed  his 
ale  :  then  clenching  his  fist,  he  gave  the  table  a  tre 
mendous  knock,  and  cursed  the  wooden-shoed  nation 
by  his  God!  Swift  as  he  cursed,  the  dogs  of  war 
bounded  from  their  kennels,  keen  for  the  chase  : 
and,  snuffing  the  blood  of  Frenchmen  on  every  gale, 
they  raised  a  howl  of  death  which  reached  these 
peaceful  shores.  Orders  were  immediately  issued, 
by  the  British  government,  for  the  colonies  to  arm 
and  unite  in  one  confederacy.  Virginia  took  the 
lead  ;  and  raised  a  regiment,  to  the  second  command 
in  which  she  raised  her  favourite  Washington.  Co 
lonel  Fry,  by  right  of  seniority,  commanded  :  but  on 
his  death,  which  happened  soon  after  his  appoint 
ment,  Washington  succeeded  to  the  command.— 
With  this  little  handful,  he  bravely  pushed  out  into 
the  wilderness,  in  quest  of  the  enemy  ;  and  at  a  place 
called  the  Little  Meadows,  came  up  with  a  party 
under  one  Jumonville.  This  officer  was  killed,  and 
all  his  men  taken  prisoners. 

FROM  these  prisoners,  he  obtained  undoubted  intel 
ligence,  that  the  French  troops  on  the  Ohio,  con 
sisted  of  upwards  of  a  thousand  regulars,  and  ma 
ny  hundreds  of  Indians.  But  notwithstanding  this 
disheartening  intelligence,  he  still  pressed  on  un 
dauntedly  against  the  enemy,  and,  at  a  place  called 
the  Great  Meadows,  built  a  fort,  which  he  called 
Fort  Necessity 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  ST 

SOON  as  the  lines  of  the  entrenchments  were 
marked  off,  and  the  men  about  to  fall  to  work,  Wash 
ington  seizing  the  hand  of  the  first  that  was  lifting  the 
spade,  cried  out  u  Stop,  my  brave  fellow  /  my  hand 
must  heave  the  first  earth  that  is  thrown  up  in  defence 
of  this  country  /" 

LEAVING  a  small  garrison  behind  him,  he  dashed 
on  for  Fort  Duquesne,  (Fort  Pitt,)  hoping  by  the  re 
duction  of  that  important  post,  to  strike  terror  into 
the  enemy,  and  defeat  their  plans.  But  though 
this  was  a  bold  stroke  of  generalship,  yet  it  appeared 
that  he  had  not  a  force  sufficient  to  effect  it.  For  in 
the  midst  of  this  day's  march,  he  was  met  by  a  party 
of  friendly  Indians,  who,  running  up  to  him,  with 
looks  and  gestures  greatly  agitated,  cried  out:  u  Fly  ! 
•Ry  !  don't  look  behind  you!  your  enemies  are  upon  you, 
thick  as  the  pigeons  in  the  woods  /" 

WASHINGTON  called  a  council  of  his  officers,  who 
advised  an  immediate  return  to  Fort  Necessity,  which 
they  hardly  recovered,  before  their  centinels  fired  an 
alarm  ;  came  running  in  ;  and  stated,  that  the  woods 
were  alive  with  Frenchmen  and  Indians  ! — It  should 
have  been  observed,  that  the  dreadful  news  of  the 
day  before,  had  produced  so  shameful  a  desertion 
among  his  troops,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  that, 
when  the  enemy  attacked,  which  they  did  with  1500 
men,  Washington  had  but  300  to  stand  by  him. 
But  never  did  the  true  Virginia  valour  shine  more 
gloriously  than  on  this  trying  occasion— -to  see  300 
young  fellows-—  commanded  by  a  smooth-faced  boy 
— all  unaccustomed  to  the  terrors  of  war — far  from 
home — and  from  all  hope  of  help-— shut  up  in  a  dreary 
wilderness-— and  surrounded  by  five  times  their  num- 
ber  of  savage  foes,  yet  without  sign  of  fear,  preparing 
for  mortal  combat !  Scarcely  since  the  days  of  Le- 
onidas  and  his  three  hundred  deathless  Spartans,  had 
the  sun  beheld  its  equal.  With  hideous  whoops  and 
yells,  the  enemy  came  on  like  a  host  of  tigers.  The 
woods  and  rocks,  and  tall  tree-tops,  fillea  rvith  Indians, 


38  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

were  in  one  continued  blaze  and  crash  of  fire-arms. 
Nor  were  our  youthful  warriors  idle  :  but  animated 
by  their  youthful  commander,  they  plied  their  rifles 
with  such  spirit,  that  the  little  fort  resembled  a  vol 
cano  in  full  blast,  roaring  and  discharging  thick  sheets 
of  liquid  fire  and  of  leaden  deaths  among  their  foes. 
For  nine  glorious  hours,  salamander-like,  enveloped 
in  smoke  and  flames,  they  sustained  the  attack  of  the 
enemy's  whole  force,  and  laid  two  hundred  of  them 
dead  on  the  spot!  Discouraged  by  such  desperate  re 
sistance,  the  French  general,  the  Count  de  Villiers, 
sent  in  a  flag  to  Washington,  highly  extolling  his 
gallantry,  and  offer  ing  hi  ro  the  mosthonourable  terms. 
It  was  stipulated,  that  Washington  and  his  little  band 
of  heroes,  should  march  away  with  all  the  honours  of 
war,  and  carry  with  them  tiieir  military  stores  and 
baggage. 

ON  their  return  to  the  bosom  of  their  country,  they 
were  every  where  received  with  the  praises  which 
they  had  so  well  deserved.  The  Legislature  voted 
the  thanks  of  the  nation  to  Washington  and  his  offi 
cers  ;  with  a  pistole  to  each  of  his  men,  about  300. 

IN  the  course  of  the  following  winter,  notice  was 
given  from  the  mother  country,  that  American  offi 
cers,  acting  with  the  British,  should  bear  no  com 
mand  ! !  Hence  the  poorest  shoat,  if  wearing  the 
proud  epaulette  of  a  Briton,  might  command  a 
Wolfe,  if  so  unlucky  as  to  be  an  American  ! ! !  In 
censed  at  such  an  outrage  on  common  justice,  and 
the  rights  of  his  countrymen,  Washington  threw  up 
his  commission  ;  and  retired  to  his  plantation,  Mount 
Vcrnon,  lately  left  him  by  his  brother  Lawrence. — 
Here,Cincinnatus-like,  he  betook  him  to  his  favourite 
plough. — But  the  season  called  for  the  s\vord  ; — and 
he  was  now  risen  too  high  to  be  overlooked  in  times 
ike  those  when  troubles  and  fears  began  to  darken 
over  all  the  land. 

THE  report  of  his  gallant  but  unsuccessful  strug 
gle  with  the  French  and  Indians,  soon  reached  Eng, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  39 

-and :  and  the  ministry  thinking  the  colonies  alone 
too  weak  to  repel  the  enemy,  hurried  on  General 
Braddock,  with  two  heavy  regiments,  to  their  aid. 
This  reinforcement  arrived  early  in  the  spring  o 
1755.  Leaving  them  at  the  Capes  on  their  way  up 
to  Belle-haven,(now  ALEXANDRIA,)  Braddock  called 
at  Williamsburgh,  to  see  Governor  Dinwiddie,  who 
attended  him  to  Alexandria. 

"  Where  is  Colonel  Washing-ton  ?""  said  General 
Braddock.  "  I  long  to  see  him ." 

"  He  is  retired  from  the  service,  Sir"  replied  the 
Governor. 

"  Retired  !  Sir .'"  'continued  the  General,  «<  Co 
lonel  Washington  retired  !  pray,  Sir,  -what's  the  rea 
son  ?" 

ON  hearing  the  cause,  he  broke  into  a  passion 
against  the  order  from  the  war-office  as  a  shameful 
piece  of  partiality — and  extolled  Colonel  Washington 
as  u  a  young  man  of  sense  and  spirit,  who  knew  and 
asserted  his  rights  as  became  a  soldier  and  a  British 
subject." 

HE  then  wrote  to  Washington,  whom  he  pressing- 
ly  invited  to  join  his  army,  and  accept  the  rank  of  a 
volunteer  aid-de-camp  in  his  own  family.  This  in 
vitation  was  cheerfully  accepted  by  our  young  coun 
tryman,  who  waited  on  General  Braddock  as  soon  as 
he  heard  of  his  arrival  at  Alexandria.  About  the 
same  time,  three  companies  of  excellent  Virginia 
marksmen,  raised  by  order  of  the  Legislature,  ar 
rived  at  the  British  camp. 

IT  was  in  the  month  of  June  1 755,  that  the  army, 
upwards  of  2000  strong,  left  Alexandria  ;  and,  with 
their  faces  to  the  west,  began  their  march  to  the 
mournful  ditty  of  "  over  the  hills  and  far  away"  On 
the  route  Washington  was  taken  sick  ;  and  by  the 
time  they  had  reached  the  Little  Meadows,  had  be- 
come  so  very  ill,  that  Braddock,  at  the  instance  of  th» 
physicians,  insisted  most  peremptorily  that  he  should 
lie  by  until  Colonel  Dunbar  with  the  rear  of  the  sfr- 
my  came  up.  With  great  reluctance  he  yielded  t« 
D  2 


40  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

their  wishes.  But  so  great  were  his  fears  for  the  ar 
my,  lest  in  those  wild  woods  it  should  fall  into  some 
Indian  snare,  that  the  moment  his  fever  left  him,  he 
mounted  his  horse,  and  pursued,  and  overtook  them 
the  very  evening  before  they  fell  into  that  ambuscade 
which  he  had  all  along  dreaded.  For  the  next 
morning,  the  9th  of  July,  when  they  were  safely  ar 
rived  within  seven  miles  of  Fort  Duquesne  !  and  so 
confident  of  success,  that  their  general  swore  he 
would  that  night  sup  either  in  Fort  Duquesne  or  in 
the  lower  regions — behold,  the  Virginia  Rangers 
discovered  signs  of  Indians. 

HERE  Washington,  with  his  usual  modesty,  ob 
served  to  General  Braddock  what  sort  of  an  enemy 
he  had  now  to  deal  with — an  enemy  who  would  not, 
like  the  Europeans,  come  forward  to  a  fair  contest 
in  the  field,  but,  concealed  behind  the  rocks  and 
trees,  carry  on  a  deadly  warfare  with  their  rifles. 
He  concluded  with  these  words,  "  /  beg  of  your  ex 
cellency  the  honour  to  allow  me  to  lead  on  ivith  the  Vir 
ginia  Riflemen,  and  fight  them  in  their  own  way," 

HAD  it  been  decreed  that  this  hapless  army  should 
have  been  saved,  this  was  the  counsel  to  have  effected 
it.  But  it  would  seem,  alas  !  that  Heaven  had  or 
dained  their  fall  in  that  distant  land  ;  and  there  with 
their  flesh  to  fatten  the  wolves  and  vultures  on  the 
hills  of  Monongahela.  For  General  Braddock,  who 
had  all  along  treated  the  American  officers  with  in 
finite  contempt,  rejected  Washington's  counsel,  and 
swelling  with  most  unmanly  rage,  replied,  «'  High, 

times,  by High  times  !  when  a  young'  Buckskin 

can  teach  a  British  General  how  to  fight  /"  Instantly 
the  pale,  fever-worn  cheeks  of  Washington  turned 
fiery  red.  But  smothering  his  feelings,  he  rode 
towards  his  men,  biting  his  lip  with  grief  and  rage, 
to  think  how  many  brave  fellows  would  draw  short 
breath  that  clay  through  the  pride  and  obstinacy 
of  one  epauletted  madman.  Formed  in  heavy  co 
lumns  the  troops  continued  to  advance.  A  little  be 
yond  the  Mononguhela,  was  a  narrow  defile,  through 
which  lay  their  road,  with  moss-grown  rocks  on  ei- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  41 

ther  side,  and  aged  trees  that  spread  an  awful  shade. 
Here,  in  perfect  concealment,  the  French  and  Indi 
ans  lay,  waiting  impatiently  for  this  devoted  army. 
Too  soon,  alas  !  the  army  came  up  ;  and,  entering  the 
defile,  moved  along  in  silence,  like  sheep  to  the 
slaughter,  little  dreaming  how  close  the  bloody  fates 
hovered  around  them.  Thinking  their  prey  now 
completely  in  their  clutches,  all  at  once,  the  Indians 
set  up  the  most  hideous  yells,  as  if  the  woods  were 
filled  with  ten  thousand  panthers.  This  they  did,  both 
as  a  terror  to  the  British,  and  a  signal  to  attack  ;  for 
in  the  same  moment  they  poured  in  a  general  fire, 
which  instantly  covered  the  ground  with  death  in 
every  hideous  shape.  Some  were  seen  sinking  pale 
and  lifeless  at  once,  giving  up  the  ghost  with  only  a 
hollow  groan — others  rolling  on  the  earth,  convulsed 
and  shrieking  in  the  last  agonies,  while  life  and  life's 
warm  blood  together  gushed  in  hissing  torrents 
from  their  breasts.  Such  sights  of  their  bleeding 
comrades,  had  the  enemy  but  been  in  view,  instead 
of  depressing  would  but  have  inflamed  British  blood 
with  fiercer  thirst  for  vengeance.  But,  alas  !  to  be 
thus  entrapped  in  a  dreary  wild  !  to  be  thus  pent  up, 
and  shot  from  behind  rocks  and  trees,  by  an  invisible 
enemy,  was  enough  to  dismay  the  stoutest  hearts. 
Their  native  valour,  however,  and  confidence  in 
themselves,  did  notat  once  forsake  them.  But,  ani 
mated  by  their  officers,  they  stood  their  ground,  and 
for  a  considerable  time  fought  like,  heroes.  But  see 
ing  no  impression  made  by  their  fire,  while  that  of 
the  enemy,  heavy  as  at  first,  with  fatal  flashes  con 
tinued  to  cut  down  their  ranks,  they  at  length  took  a 
panic,  and  fell  into  great  confusion.  Happily,  on  the 
left,  where  lay  the  deadliest  fire,  Washington's  ran 
gers  were  posted ;  but  not  exposed  like  the  British. 
For,  on  hearing  the  horrible  savage  yells,  in  a  mo 
ment  they  flew  each  to  his  tree, like  the  Indians  ;  and 
like  them,  each  levelled  his  rifle,  and  with  as  deadly 
aim.  This,  through  a  kind  Providence,  saved  Brad- 
dock's  army  ;  for  exulting  in  their  confusion,  the  sa- 


42  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

vages,  grimly  painted,  yelling  like  furies,  burst 
from  their  coverts,  eager  to  glut  their  hellish  rage 
with  a  total  massacre  of  the  British.  But,  faithful  to 
their  friends,  Washington's  rangers  stepped  forthwith 
joy  to  meet  the  assailants.  Then  rose  a  scene  suffi 
cient  to  fill  the  stoutest  heart  with  horror.  Burning 
alike  for  vengeance,  both  parties  throw  aside  the  slow- 
murdering  rifles,  and  grasp  their  swift-fated  toma 
hawks.  Dreadfully  above  their  heads  gleams  the 
brandished  steel,  as  with  full  exerted  limbs,  and  faces 
all  inflamed  with  mortal  hate,  they  level  at  each  other 
their  last  decisive  blows.  Death  rages  through  all 
their  fast-thinning  ranks — his  bleeding  victims  are 
rolled  together  on  every  side.  Here  falls  the  brave 
Virginia  Blue,  under  the  stroke  of  his  nimbler  foe — 
and  there,  man  on  man  the  Indians  perish  beneath 
the  furious  tomahawks,  deep  buried  in  the  shattered 
brain.  But  who  can  tell  the  joy  of  Washington, 
when  he  saw  this  handful  of  his  despised  country 
men  thus  gallantly  defending  their  British  friends, 
and  by  dint  of  mortal  steel  driving  back  their  blood 
thirsty  assailants.  Happy  check  !  for  by  this  time, 
covered  with  wounds  Braddock  had  fallen — his  aids 
and  officers,  to  a  man,  killed  or  wounded — and  his 
troops,  in  hopeless,  helpless  despair,  flying  backwards 
and  forwards  from  the  fire  of  the  Indians,  like  flocks 
ot  crowding  sheep  from  the  presence  of  their  butch 
ers.  Washington  alone  remained  unhurt !  Horse  af 
ter  horse  had  been  killed  under  him.  Showers  of 
bullets  had  touched  his  locks  or  pierced  his  regiment 
als.  But  still  protected  by  Heaven — still  supported 
by  a  strength  not  his  own,  he  had  continued  to  fly  from 
quarter  to  quarter, where  his  presence  was  mostneed- 
ed,  sometimes  animating  his  rangers;  sometimes 
striving,  but  in  vain,  to  rally  the  regulars.  'Twashis 
lot  to  be  close  to  the  brave  but  imprudent  Braddock 
when  he  fell :  and  he  assisted  to  place  him  in  a  tum 
bril,  or  little  cart.  As  he  was  laid  down, pale  and  near 
spent,  with  loss  of  blood,  he  faintly  said  to  Washing 
ton-- 


Page  42. 


Defeat  of  General  Braddock* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  43 

*4  Retreat,  Sir"  replied  Washington  :  "  retreat  by 
all  means;  for  the  Regulars  worft  fight:  and  the 
Rangers  are  nearly  all  killed! 

u  Poor  fellows  /"  he  replied,  "  poor  fellows  ! — 
Well,  do  as  you  •will,  Colonel,  do  as  you  will." 

THE  army  then  commenced  its  retreat,  in  a  very 
rapid  and  disorderly  manner,  while  Washington  with 
his  few  surviving  rangers,  covered  the  rear. 

HAPPILY,  the  Indians  did  not  pursue  them  far  :  but 
after  firing  a  few  random  shots,  returned  in  a  body, 
to  fall  upon  the  plunder  ;  while  Washington,  with 
his  frightened  fugitives  continued  their  retreat,  sadly 
remembering  that  more  than  one  half  of  their  morn 
ing's  gay  companions  were  left  a  prey  to  the  ravening 
beasts  of  the  desert.  There,  denied  the  common 
charities  of  the  grave,  they  lay  for  many  a  year 
bleaching  the  lonely  hills  with  their  bones. 

ON  reaching  Fort  Cumberland,  where  they  met 
Colonel  Dunbar  with  the  rear  of  the  army,  General 
Braddock  died.  He  died  in  the  arms  of  Washing 
ton,  whose  pardon  he  often  begged  for  having  treat' 
ed  him  so  rudely  that  fatal  morning — heartily  wished, 
he  said,  he  had  but  follorved  his  advice — frequently 
called  his  rangers  u  brave  fellows  I  glorious  fellows,!" 
Often  said,  he  should  be  glad  to  live  if  it  ivas  only  to 
reward  their  gallantry  !  I  have  more  than  once  been 
told,  but  cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  it,  that  his 
sister,  on  hearing  how  obstinately  Washington  and 
his  Blues  had  fought  for  her  brother,  was  so  affected 
that  she  shed  tears :  and  sent  them  from  England 
handsome  cockades,  according  to  their  number,  and 
a  pair  of  colours  elegantly  wrought  by  her  own  fair 
hands. 

WITH  respect  to  Washington,  I  cannot  but  men 
tion  here  two  very  extraordinary  speeches  that  were 
made  about  him,  after  Braddock's  defeat,  and  which, 
as  things  have  turned  out,  look  a  good  deal  like  pro 
phecies.  A  famous  Indian  warrior,  who  acted  a  lead 
ing  part  in  that  bloody  tragedy,  was  often  heard  to 
swear,  that "  Washington  was  never  born  to  be  killed  by 


44  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

a  bullet !  For?  continued  he  "  /  had  seventeen  fair 
fires  at  him  -with  my  rifle,  and  after  all  could  not  bring 
him  to  the  ground!"  And  indeed  whoever  considers 
that  a  good  rifle  levelled  by  a  proper  marksman,  hard 
ly  ever  misses  its  aim,  will  readily  enough  conclude 
with  this  unlettered  savage,  that  there  was  some  in 
visible  hand  that  turned  aside  the  bullets. 

THE  Rev'd  Mr.  Davies,  in  a  sermon  occasioned 
by  Braddock's  defeat,  has  these  remarkable  words — 
u  1  beg  leave  to  point  the  attention  oj  the  public  to  that 
heroic  youth  Colonel  Washington,  whom  I  cannot  but 
hope  Providence  has  preserved  for  some  great  service 
to  this  country  !  /*' 

BUT  though  the  American  writers  have  pretty 
unanimously  agreed,  that  Washington  was,  under 
God,  the  saving  Angel  that  stood  up  between  Brad- 
dock's  army  and  total  destruction,  yet  did  it  profit 
him  but  little  with  his  sovereign.  The  British  offi 
cers  indeed  admired  him  :  but  they  had  no  idea  of 
going  any  farther :  "  To  tell  in  Gath,  or  publish  in 
the  streets  of  Askalorf9  that  a  British  army  OWL d  its 
safety  to  a  young  Buckskin,  required  a  pitch  of  vir 
tue  and  of  courage  above  ordinary  minds.  Wash 
ington  was  therefore  kept  in  the  back  ground  ;  and 
Genera  IBraddock  being  dead,  the  command  devolved 
upon  Colonel  Dunbar,  whose  conduc  tproved  him  to 
be  one  of  those  pusillanimous  hirelings,  mho  jSe 
whent  hg  wolf  Cometh.  To  attempt,  by  some  gallao 
effort  to  recover  what  Braddod*  had  oat,— or  p 
hang  upon  the  enemy,  and  prevent,  ati  east,  tho*e 
numerous  scalping  parties,  which  distracted  with 
midnight  murders  and  deluged  the  defenceless  fron 
tiers  with  blood,  were  brave  and  generous  ideas,  of 
which  he  seemed  incapable.  But,  trembling  under 
the  general  panic,  he  instantly  ordered  the  tents  to  be 
struck  ;  and  pushing  off  under  the  whip  and  spur  of 
his  fears,  never  halted  until  he  had  reached  Philadel 
phia  ;  where  he  went,  as  he  called  it,  into  winter 
quarters,  (in  the  beginning  of  the  dog-days  /)  leaving 
all  the  frontiers  of  Maryland  and  Virginia  exposed 
to  the  merciless  tomahawk. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  45 

SUCH  facts  ought  to  be  recorded  for  the  benefit  of 
young  men,  who,  with  no  military  qualifications  but 
big  limbs,  can  yet  covet  red  coats  and  shoulder-knots. 

BEING  tlius  shamefully  deserted  by  Colonel  Dun- 
bar,  Washington  with  his  thirty  rangers,  set  out  with 
sorrowful  hearts  to  return  home.  But  before  he  left 
Fort  Cumberland,  he  dispatched  an  express,  to  in 
form  Governor  Dinwiddie,  that  "  General  Braddock 
was  slam — his  army  totally  defeated — the  remnant  on 
their  march  to  Philadelphia — and  the  whole  frontier 
given  up  to  the  Indians  .'"  The  consternation  that 
was  spread  throughout  the  country  by  this  news,  was 
inexpressible.  Heart-sickening  terrors,  as  of  a  wo 
man  in  labour,  seized  upon  all  families  and  a 
frightened  fancy  found  food  for  its  fears  in  every 
thing  around  it — the  blast  whistling  round  the  cor 
ners  of  their  cabin,  alarmed,  like  the  yell  of  murder 
ous  savages — the  innocent  death-bell — the  croaking 

raven — the  midnight  howl  of  clogs were  all  sure 

harbingers  of  fate.  While,  for  dread  of  the  Indians, 
the  roads  were  filled  with  thousands  of  distracted  pa 
rents,  with  their  weeping  little  ones,  flying  from  their 
homes. 

THE  GOVERNOR  instantly  ordered  a  call  of  the  Le 
gislature,  who,  by  the  time  Washington  reached 
Williamsburgh,  were  assembled,  and,  together  with 
numbers  of  citizens,  went  out  and  met  him  near 
the  town. 

THE  interview  was  tender.  For  the  citizens  were 
almost  moved  to  tears,  when  they  saw  that  of  so  many 
of  their  brave  countrymen  who  went  forth  to  battle, 
only  this  little  handful  remained  !  They  were  exceed 
ingly  rejoiced  to  see,  alive  and  well,  their  beloved 
Washington.  He  had  always  been  dear  to  them  ;  but 
now  doubly  dear,  in  such  times  of  danger.  They 
mourned  the  misfortunes  of  their  country  ;  but  laid 
no  blame  to  him.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  universal 
ly  believed,  that,  but  for  him  the  ruin  ivould  have 
been  complete.  "  Braddock"  said  they,  "  lost  the  vic 
tory  :  bi'*  Washington  saved  the  army*" 
E 


46  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Fatal  effects  of  Br  added?  s  defeat — Washington  wish 
es  to  carry  the  "war  into  the  Indian  country — gov 
ernment  refuses — defensive  war  preferred — the 
frontiers  desolated. 

GREAT  was  the  joy  at  Fort  Duquesne  on  the 
return  of  their  troops  from  the  slaughter  of  Brad- 
dock's  army.  The  idea  of  victory,  as  appeared  after 
wards,  had  never  once  entered  their  heads. — They 
had  gone  out  just  to  reconnoitre,  and  harass  the  Bri 
tish  in  their  approach  !  How  unbounded  then  must 
have  been  the  joy  of  the  garrison,  on  seeing  their 
friends  come  back  next  morning,  not  sad  and  spirit 
less,  as  had  been  expected,  but  whooping  and  snout 
ing  for  a  glorious  victory  ;  and  enriched  with  the 
artillery,  ammunition,  provisions,  and  baggage-wag 
gons  of  a  British  army  cut  to  pieces  /  / 

THE  French  commandant  took  care  to  make  a 
proper  use  of  his  advantage ;  for  as  soon  as  the  days 
of  savage  feasting  and  drunkenness  were  over,  he 
sent  out  deputations  of  his  chiefs  with  grand-talks  to 
several  of  the  neighbouring  tribes,  who  had  not  yet 
ifted  the  hatchet. 

THE  tribes  being  assembled,  and  the  calumet  or 
pipe  of  friendship  smoked  around,  the  chiefs  arose  ; 
and  in  all  the  pomp  of  Indian  eloquence  announced 
their  great  victory  over  Long1  Knife  (the  Virginians) 
and  his  white  brothers,  (the  British) — then  with  a 
proud  display  of  the  numerous  scalps  and  rich  dresses 
which  they  had  taken,  they  concluded  with  inviting 
the  young  men  to  unbury  the  tomahawk,  and  rush 
with  them  to  drink  the  blood  of  their  enemies. 

THIS  was  enough — "  Grinning  horribly  a  ghastly 
smile"  at  such  prospects  of  blood  and  plunder,  the 
grim  children  of  the  desert,  rose  up  at  once  to  war. 
No  time  was  lost  in  preparation.  A  pouch  of  parch- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  47 

ed  corn,  and  a  bear-skin,  with  n  rifle,  tomahawk, 
and  scalping  knife,  were  their  equipage.  And  in  a 
few  weeks  after  Braddock's  defeat,  an  army  of  at 
least  fourteen  hundred  of  those  blood-thirsty  savages 
were  in  full  march  over  hills  and  mountains,  to  sur 
prise  and  murder  the  frontier  inhabitants. 

WASHINGTON  had  early  foreseen  the  storm  that 
would  one  day  burst  from  Fort  Duquesne.  On  his 
first  trip  through  that  country,  two  years  before, 
he  had  marked  the  very  spot,  and  pointed  it  out  as 
"  the  key  of  the  western  world"  But  Britain  and 
America,  (like  the  wild  ass  and  her  colts,  though 
mule-stubborn  in  acting,  yet  snail-slow  to  act,)  let 
the  golden  chance  escape  ;  till  one  Du  Quesne,  a 
French  officer,  with  some  troops,  passing  along  that 
way  in  1754,  and  struck,  as  Washington  had  been, 
with  the  situation,  immediately  built  thereon  a  fort, 
which  he  called  after  his  own  name.  It  answered 
the  fatal  purposes  which  Washington  had  predicted. 
By  means  of  the  bold  water  courses  on  which  it 
stood,  it  greatly  favoured  the  conveyance  both  of 
goods  and  of  intelligence.  There  the  French  laid  up 
magazines  for  their  Indian  allies,  and  there  they 
hoisted  the  dread  signals  of  war. 

NOT  having  been  able  to  prevail  on  his  country 
men  to  occupy  it  before  the  enemy,  Washington's 
whole  ambition  now  was  to  take  it  from  them. 
it  Send  two  thousand  men" — said  he,  in  numerous 
importunate  letters  to  the  Governor  and  Legislature, 
41  send  two  thousand  men,  and  drain  the  fountain  at 
once — the  streams  will  fail  of  course." 

BUT,  spite  of  this  advice,  the  mad  policy  of  a  de 
fensive  war  prevailed  in  the  Virginia  Government : 
and  instead  of  raising  2000  men,  they  voted  to  raise 
about  half  that  number !  and  then,  like  hypocrites 
who  make  up  in  lip-service  what  they  lack  in  good 
works,  they  dubbed  him  Commander  in  chief  of  all 
the  troops  raised  or  to  be  raised  in  Virginia,  with  the 
privilege  of  naming  his  own  field  officers  .' 

THF.SE  vain  honours  served  but  to  exalt  him  to  a 
higher  sphere  of  misery — the  miser}7  of  taking  a 


48  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

wider  survey  of  those  misfortunes  of  his  country 
which  he  could  not  remedy, — and  to  feel  a  deeper 
responsibility  for  those  blunders  of  others,  which  he 
could  not  cure.  He  saw  Fort  Duquesne  mustering 
her  murderers,  which  he  had  no  powers  to  prevent! 
He  hud  a  frontier  of  36O  miles  to  defend,  and  gene 
rally  less  than  70O  men  to  defend  it  with  !  If  he  kept 
his  troops  embodied,  the  whole  country  would  be  left 
open  to  the  savages.  If  he  broke  them  down  into 
small  parties,  they  might  be  destroyed  one  after  ano 
ther,  by  a  superior  force.  If  he  threw  them  into 
forts,  they  were  sure  to  be  starved ;  or  derided  by 
the  enemy  who  could  easily  pass  them  in  the  night 
and  surprize,  destroy,  and  murder  the  inhabitants 
with  impunity.  And  though  thus  completely  crippled 
by  the  stupidity  or  parsimony  of  the  government, 
and  incapacitated  from  doing  any  services  for  his 
country,  yet  great  services  were  expected  of  him, 
and  great  blame  bestowed  for  every  failure.  If  no 
victories  were  gained  over  the  enemy,  he  would  be 
blamed  for  inactivity.  If  the  settlers  were  murdered, 
he  would  be  accused  of  neglect — and  if  he  pointed 
out  the  errors  of  government,  he  would  be  charged 
as  '*  officious"  and  u  impertinent  ;"  and  this  while 
young  officers  ot  the  worthless  sort,  mere  cork-draw 
ers  and  songsters  at  great  men's  tables,  were  basely 
cutting  in  with  a  weak  old  governor's  prejudices,  to 
work  hi  in  out,  and  to  worm  themselves  into  favour 
and  rank. 

BUT  all  these  vexations  and  sorrows  were  but  tri- 
fles  in  comparison  ol  others  which  he  was  doomed  to 
feel.  Seeing  no  hopes  pi  a  force  sufficient  to  attack 
Fori  Duquesne,  he  formed  a  chain  of  garrisons 
along  tin-  frontier  ;  and  then,  with  a  flying  corps  of 
the  most  active  and  daring  young  men,  continued 
night  and  clay,  to  scour  the  country  in  quest  of  the 
enemy's  murdering  parties.  In  this  bold  and  dange 
rous  < -mployment,  wiiich  lasted  almost  three  years, 
he  was  often  presented  with  sights  of  human  destruc 
tion,  sufficient  to  excite  sympathy  in  hearts  oi  flintiest 
stum.-. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  49 

ON  cautiously  entering  the  hapless  plantation  with 
his  men,  they  halt  and  listen  awhile — but  hear  no 
voice  of  man-— see  no  house,  nor  sign  of  habitation — 
all  is  void  and  silent.  Marking  the  buzzards  perched 
on  the  trees  in  the  corn-fields,  they  approach,  and 
find,  lying  by  his  plough,  the  half-devoured  carcass 
of  a  man.  The  hole  in  his  breast  shows  that  he  had 
been  shot,  while  the  deep  gashes  in  the  forehead  of 
his  dead  horses?  point  out  the  bursting  strokes  of  the 
tomahawk.  Amidst  the  ashes  of  the  late  dwelling, 
are  seen,  white  as  chalk,  the  bones  of  the  mother 
and  her  children.  But  sometimes  their  raw  and 
bloody  skeletons,  fed  on  by  the  hogs,  are  found  in  the 
yards  or  gardens  where  they  were  surprised. 

u  ONE  day" — said  he  to  an  intimate  ;  though  it  was 
but  seldom  that  he  mentioned  those  things,  they  gave 
him  so  much  pain — "  One  day,  as  we  drew  near, 
<l  through  the  woods,  to  a  dwelling,  suddenly  we 
u  heard  the  discharge  of  a  gun.  Whereupon  quick- 
u  ening  our  pace,  and  creeping  up  through  the  thick 
"  bushes  to  a- fence,  we  saw  what  we  had  dreaded — 
*'  a  party  of  Indians,  loaded  with  plunder,  coming  out 
*'  of  a  house,  which,  by  the  smoke,  appeared  as  if  it 
"  were  just  set  on  fire.  In  a  moment  we  gave  the 
"  savages  a  shower  of  rifle  balls,  which  killed  every 
u  man  of  them  but  one.  He  attempted  to  run  off. 
"  It  was  in  vain.  Some  of  our  swift-footed  hunters 
u  gave  chase,  and  soon  overtook  and  immolated  him 
**  with  their  tomahawks.  On  rushing  into  the  house, 
41  and  putting  out  the  fire,  we  saw  a  mournful  sight 
"  indeed — a  young  woman  lying  on  a  bed  floating 
u  in  blood — her  forehead  cleft  with  a  hatchet — and 
"  on  her  breast  two  little  children,  apparently  twins, 
u  and  about  nine  months  old, bathing  her  bosom  with 
"  the  crimson  currents  flowing  from  their  deeply 
<l  gashed  heads  !  I  had  often  beheld  the  mangled  re- 
"  mains  of  my  murdered  countrymen  ;  but  never  be- 
*'  fore  felt  what  I  did  on  this  occasion.  To  see 
"  these  poor  innocents — these  little  unoffending  an- 
E  2 


50  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

u  gels,  just  entered  upon  life,  and,  instead  of  fondest 
"  sympathy  and  tenderness,  meeting  their  hideous 
44  deaths  ;  and  from  hands  of  brothers  too  !  filled  my 
44  soul  \yith  the  deepest  horror  of  sin  !  but  at  the 
44  same  time  inspired  a  most  adoring  sense  of  that 
44  religion  which  announces  the  Redeemer,  who 
44  shall,  one  day,  do  away  man's  malignant  passions, 
44  and  restore  the  children  of  God  to  primaeval  love 
44  and  bliss.  Without  this  hope,  what  man  ot  feel- 
**  ing  but  would  wish  he  had  never  been  born  ! 

«4  ON  tracing  back  into  the  corn-field  the  steps  of 
44  the  barbarians,  we  found  a  little  boy,  and  beyond 
44  him  his  father,  both  weltering  in  blood.  It  appear- 
41  ed,  from  the  print  of  his  little  feet  in  the  furrows, 
41  that  the  child  had  been  following  his  father's 
41  plough  ;  and,  seeing  him  shot  down,  had  set  off 
«'  with  all  his  might,  to  get  to  the  house  to  his  mo- 
41  ther  ;  but  was  overtaken,  and  destroyed  ! 

44  AND,  indeed,  so  great  was  the  dread  entertained 
*'  of  the  French  and  Indians,  throughout  the  settle- 
41  ments,  that  it  was  distressing  to  call  even  on  those 
44  families  who  yet  survived,  but,  from  sickness  or 
44  other  causes,  had  not  been  able  to  get  away.  The 
44  poor  creatures  would  run  to  meet  us,  like  persons 

44  half  distracted  with  joy and  then  with  looks 

<4  blank  with  terror,  would  tell  that  such  or  such  a 
44  neighbour's  family,  perhaps  the  very  night  before, 
4  was  murdered  ! — and  that  they  heard  their  cries  ! 
4*  — and  saw  the  flames  that  devoured  their  houses  j 
44  — and  also,  that  they  themselves,  after  saying  their 
«  prayers  at  night,  never  lay  down  to  sleep,  without 
*4  first  taking  leave  of  one  another,  as  if  they  never 
expected  to  meet  again  in  this  world.  But  when 
*4  we  came  to  take  our  leave  of  these  wretched  fami- 
'4  lies,  my  God !  what  were  our  feelings  !  to  see  the 
*4  deep,  silent  grief  of  the  men  ;  and  the  looks  of  the 
4  poor  women  and  children,  as,  falling  upon  their 
4  knees,  with  piercing  screams,  and  eyes  wild  with 
«i  terror,  they  seized  our  hands,  or  hung  to  our 
"clotnes,  intreating  us,  for  God's  sake,  and  for 
k*  mercy's  sake,  not  to  Itave  them  to  be  murdered. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  51 

u  These  things  so  harassed  my  heart  with  grief,  that 
u  I  solemnly  declare  to  God,  if  I  know  myself,  I 
44  would  gladly  offer  my  own  life  a  sacrifice  to  the 
41  butchering  enemy,  if  I  could  thereby  insure  the 
44  safety  of  these  my  poor  distressed  countrymen." 

SUCH  were  the  scenes  in  which  Washington  was 
doomed  to  spend  three  years  of  a  wretched  life,  ren 
dered  still  more  wretched  by  knowing  so  perfectly 
as  he  did,  that  the  rapid  charge  of  two  thousand  brave 
fellows  upon  Fort  Duquesne,  like  the  thundering 
shock  of  a  two-and-forty  pounder  upon  a  water-spout, 
would  have  instantly  dispersed  the  fatal  meteor,  and 
restored  the  golden  hours  of  peace  and  safety.     But 
to   give    Colonel  Washington   two   thousand   men 
seemed  to  old  governor  Dinwiddie,   like  giving  the 
staff  out  of  his  own  hand,  as  he  elegantly  called  it: 
and  rather  than  do  that,  he  would  risk  the  desola 
tion  of  the  western  country,  by  continuing  a  defensive 
•war,  and  a  mad  dependence  on  a  disorderly  militia, 
who  "would  come  and  go  as  they  pleased — get  drunk 
and  sleep  "when  they  pleased— whoop  and  halloo  where 
they  pleased — and,  in  short,  serve  no  other  purpose 
on  earth  but  to  disgrace  their  officers,  deceive  the 
settlers,  and  defraud\hz  public.     Indeed  so  ruinous 
were  these  measures  of  governors  Dinwiddie   and 
Loudon,  that,  in  the  short  space  of  three  years,  they 
completely  broke  up  all  the  fine  young  settlements 
to  the  westward  of  Winchester,  Fredericktown,  and 
Carlisle,  whereby  numbers  of  poor  people  were  but 
chered  !  hundreds  of  rich  plantations  deserted  !  my 
riads  of  produce  lost !   and   thousands   of  dollars 
sunk !  and  all  for  the  sake  of  saving  the  paltry  ex 
pense  of  raising  in  the  first  instance  a  force  which 
would  in  ten  weeks  have  taken  Fort  Duquesne,  and 
completely  broken  up  that  den  of  thieves  and   mur 
derers  I 

AT  length,  in  1758,  the  government  of  Virginia 
devolved  on  general  Forbes,  who,  to  the  infinite  satis 
faction  of  Washington,  consented  to  second  his  views 


52  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

on  Fort  Duquesne,  Washington  earnestly  recom 
mended  an  early  campaign,  lest  the  Indian  warriors 
who  were  to  meet  them  in  April  at  Winchester, 
should  grow  tired  of  waiting,  and  return  home. 
But  the  season  was,  unfortunately,  so  idled  away, 
that  marching  orders  were  not  given  till  the  first  of 
September,  when,  according  to  Washington's  pre 
diction,  there  was  not  a  red  man  to  be  found  in 
camp.  The  army  then  commenced  its  movements, 
but  still  as  would  seem,  under  the  frown  of  Heaven. 
FOR  instead  of  sweeping  along  the  old  track,  gene 
rally  called  BraddocPs  road.  gen.  Forbes  was  per 
suaded  to  take  an  entirely  new  route,  of  which  every 
inch  was  to  be  cut  through  wilds  and  mountains  cover 
ed  with  rocks  and  trees  !  In  vain  Washington  remon 
strated  against  this  as  a  measure,'*  which"  he  said,"?/' 
persisted  in  at  this  late  season,  would  certainly  ruin 
the  undertaking" — General  Forbes  was  inflexible. 

IN  a  letter  to  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Bur 
gesses,  Washington  has  these  remarkable  words — 
"•  If  this  conduct  of  our  leaders,  do  not  flow  from  su 
perior  orders,  it  mu^  flow  from  a  weakness,  too  gross 
for  me  to  name.  Nothing  now  but  a  miracle  can 
bring  this  campaign  to  a  happy  issue."  In  a  letter 
of  a  later  date  he  says,  u  well,  all's  lost  !  our  enter 
prise  is  ruined  !  And  -we  shall  be  stopped  this  winter 
at  the  Laurel  Bills  .'" 

BY  the  middle  of  November,  after  incredible  ex 
ertions,  the  army,  sure  enough,  reached  the  Laurel 
Hills,  where  Washington  predicted  it  would  winter  .' 
and,  strange  to  tell !  General  Forbes,  with  a  caucus 
sqivid  of  his  officers  were  actually  in  deep  debate, 
whether  they  should  spend  the  winter  in  that  inhos 
pitable  wild,  or  tread  back  their  mournful  steps,  to 
Winchester,  when  some  prisoners  brought  the  wel 
come  news  that  the  garrison  of  Fort  Duquesne,  for 
a  long  time  past  unsupported  by  their  countrymen, 
and  now  deserted  by  the  Indians,  was  so  reduced, that 
they  would  surrender  at  the  sight  of  an  enemy.  Gene 
ral  Forbes  instantly  changed  his  mind,  and  with  a 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  53 

select  detachment  made  a  push  for  Fort  Duquesne, 
the  ruins  of  which  he  entered,  without  opposition,  on 
the  28th  of  November,  1 758.  For,  advertised  of  his 
approach, the  French  determined  to  quit  it;  and  after 
having  set  fire  to  the  buildings,  embarked  in  their 
boats,  and  went  down  the  river. 

HAVING  thus,  after  three  years  of  labour  and  sor 
row,  attained  his  favourite  wish — the  reduction  of 
Fort  Duquesne  and  a  total  dispersion  of  the  savages, 
Washington  returned  with  joy  to  Williamsburgh,  to 
take  his  seat  in  the  legislature,  to  which  he  had  been 
regularly  chosen  in  his  absence. 

IT  is  worthy  of  remark,  because  it  happens  but 
to  few,  that  though  he  often  fa  Jed  of  success,  he 
never  once  lost  the  confidence  of  his  country.  Ear 
ly  aware  of  the  importance  of  character,  to  those 
ivho  wish  to  be  useful,  he  omitted  no  honest  act, 
thought  no  pains,,  no  sacrifice  of  ease  too  great,  to 
procure  and  preserve  it.  In  the  whole  of  that  stu 
pidly-managed  war,  as  also  another  subsequent  war, 
which  was  not  much  better  conducted,  he  always 
took  care  to  keep  the  public  well  informed  as  to  the 
part  which  he  had  acted,  or  wished  to  act,  in  the 
affair.  Not  content,  to  know  himself  that  he  had 
acted  wisely  or  bravely,  he  took  care  that  the  public 
should  also  know  it  ;  in  order  that  if  at  any  time  an 
uproar  should  be  made,  the  error  might  be  charged 
to  the  real  offender.  It  the  legislature,  or  governor 
Dinv/iddie,  or  general  Braddock,  or  any  other  supe 
rior,  with  whom  he  had  public  concern,  and  charac 
ter  at  stake,  made  propositions  which  he  disliked,  he 
would  modestly  point  out  their  errors,  predict  their 
mischiefs,  and  thus  wash  his  hands  of  all  blame  :— 
which  documents,  through  the  channel  of  numerous 
letters  to  his  friends,  were  always  laid  before  the 
people.  Hence,  for  the  ruinous  consequences  of  the 
weakness  and  obstinacy  of "Dinwiddie  and  Braddock, 
not  a  breath  of  censure  was  ever  blown  on  him 
On  the  contrary,  in  the  public  mind,  he  always  rose 
as  high,  or  higher,  than  the  others  sunk.  It  was 


54  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

universally  believed,  that  had  he  governed,  in  place 
of  Dinwiddie,  the  fatal  Indian  war  would  not  have 
lasted  a  campaign  ;  and  that  on  the  hills  of  Monon- 
gahela,  had  Washington  commanded  in  place 
Braddock,  the  French  and  Indians  would  have  been 
handled  very  differently.  Such  were  the  sentiments 
with  which  the  public  were  prepared  to  receive  him, 
onhis  return  into  their  welcoming  bosom.  Wherever 
he  went,  homage  always  waited  upon  him,  though 
always  uncourted.  The  grey-headed  rose  up  to  do 
him  honour,  when  he  came  into  their  company  ;  and 
the  young  men,  with  sighs,  often  wished  for  a  fame 
like  his.  Happy  was  the  fairest  lady  of  the  land, 
who,  at  the  crowded  ball,  could  get  colonel  Wash 
ington  for  her  partner.  And  even  at  the  house 
where  prayer  is  wont  to  be  made,  the  eyes  of  beau 
ty  would  sometimes  wander  from  the  cold  reading- 
preacher,  to  catch  a  livelier  devotion  from  his 
"  mind-illumined  face" — a  face  at  once  so  dignified 
with  virtue,  and  so  sweetened  with  grace,  that  none 
could  look  on  it  without  emotions  very  friendly  to 
the  heart ;  and  sighs  of  sentiment,  too  delicate  for 
description,  were  often  seen  to  heave  the  snowy  bo 
soms  of  the  noblest  dames. 

AT  the  head  of  all  these  stood  the  accomplished 
Mrs.  Martha  Custis,  the  beautiful  and  wealthy  wi 
dow  of  Mr.  John  Custis.  Her  "wealth  was  equal, 
at  least,  to  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  !  But  hei 
beauty  was  a  sum  far  larger  still.  It  was  not  the 
shallow  boast  of  a  fine  skin,  which  time  so  quickly 
tarnishes,  nor  of  those  short-lived  roses,  which 
sometimes  wither  almost  as  soon  as  blown.  But  it 
sprung  from  the  HEART — from  the  divine  and  be 
nevolent  affections,  which  spontaneously  gave  to  her 
eyes,  her  looks,  her  voice  and  her  manners,  such  an 
gelic  charms,  that  I  could  never  look  on  her,  with 
out  exclaiming  with  the  poet,  O  ! 

She  was  nearest  heaven  of  all  on  earth  I  knew  ; 
And  all  but  adoration  was  her  due." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  5>5 

FOR  two  such  kindred  souls  to  love,  it  was  only 
necessary  that  they  should  meet.  Their  friendship 
commenced  with  the  first  hour  of  their  acquaintance, 
and  was  soon  matured  to  marriage,  which  took 
place  about  trie  27th  year  of  Washington's  life. 
His  lady  was,  I  believe,  six  months  younger. 

BUT  that  it  is  contrary  to  the  rules  of  biography, 
to  begin  with  the  husband  and  end  with  the  wife,  I 
could  relate  of  that  MOST  EXCELLENT  LADY  those 
things  which  the  public  would  greatly  delight  to 
hear.  However,  gratitude  to  that  bright  saint,  now 
in  heaven,  who  was  my  noblest  benefactress,  while 
I  preached  in  her  parish,  compels  me  to  say,  that 
her  VIRTUES  and  CHARITIES  were  of  that  extensive 
and  sublime  sort,  as  fully  to  entitle  her  hlcjacet  to 
the  following  noble  epitaph,  a  little  altered,  from  one 
of  the  British  poets. 

UNDERNEATH  this  marble  hearse, 
Lies  the  subject  of  all  verse. 
Custis'  widow — great  George's  wife—- 
Death!  ere  thou  robb'st  another  life, 
Virtuous,  fair,  and  good  as  SHE, 
Christ  shall  launch  a  dart  at  thee. 


56  LI*E  OF  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Washington's  mother  has  a  vert/  curious  dream — it 
points  to  great  coming  trouble — a  cloud  arising  in 
England — the  causes  of  the  revolutionary  war. 

WHEN  a  man  begins  to  make  a  noise  in  the 
world,  his  relatives,  (the  Father,  sometimes,  but,  al 
ways  that  tenderer  parent,  the  Mother)  are  sure  to 
recollect  certain  mighty  odd  dreams,  which  they  had 
of  him  zvhen  he  was  a  child.  What  rare  dreams,  for 
example,  had  the  mothers  of  "  Macedonia's  mad 
man,  and  the  Swede,'7  while  pregnant  with  those 
butchers  of  the  human  race  !  Mrs.  Washington  also 
had  her  dream,  which  an  excellent  old  Lady  of 
Fredericksburg  assured  me  she  had  often  heard  her 
relate  with  great  satisfaction  ;  and,  for  the  last  time, 
but  a  few  weeks  before  her  death. 

u  I  DREAMT,"  said  the  Mother  of  Washington, 
<4  that  I  was  sitting  in  the  piazza  of  a  large  new  house, 
into  which  we  had  but  lately  moved.  George,  at  that 
time  about  five  years  old,  was  in  the  garden  with  h,is 
corn-stalk  plough,  busily  running  little  furrows  in 
the  sand,  in  imitation  of  Negro  Dick,  a  fine  black 
boy,  with  whose  ploughing  George  was  so  delighted 
that  it  was  sometimes  difficult  to  get  him  to  his 
dinner.  And  so  as  I  was  sitting  in  the  piazza  at  my 
work,  I  suddenly  heard  in  my  dream  a  kind  of  roar 
ing  noise  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  house.  On  run 
ning  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  I  beheld  a 
dreadful  sheet  of  fire  bursting  from  the  roof.  The 
sight  struck  me  with  a  horror  which  took  away  my 
strength^  and  threw  me,  almost  senseless,  to  the 
ground.  My  husband  and  the  servants,  as  I  saw  in 
my  dream,  soon  came  up  ;  but,  like  myself,  were  so 
terrified  at  the  sight,  that  they  could  make  no  attempt 
to  extinguish  the  flames.  In  this  most  distressing 
state,  the  image  of  my  little  son  came,  I  thought,  to 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

imy  mind  more  dear  and  tender  than  ever:  and  turn 
ing  towards  the  garden  where  he  was  engaged  with 
his  little  corn-stalk-plough,  I  screamed  out  twice  with 
all  my  might,  George!  George! — In  a  moment,  as  I 
thought,  he  threw  down  his  mimic  plough,  and  ran 
to  me  saying,  "  High  !  Ma  !  what  makes  you  call  so 
angry  !  'an't  la  good  boy — don't  I  always  run  to  you 
soon  as  I  hear  you  call?"  I  could  make  no  reply,  but 
just  threw  up  my  arms  towards  the  flame.  He  look 
ed  up  and  saw  the  house  all  on  fire  :  but  instead  of 
bursting  out  a  crying,  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  a  child,  he  instantly  brightened  up,  and  seemed 
ready  to  fly  to  extinguish  it.  But  first  looking  at  me 
with  great  tenderness,  he  said,  "  Oh,  Ma!  don't  be 
afraid:  God  Almighty  will  help  us,  and  we  shall  soon 
put  it  out" — His  loo'ks  and  words  revived  our  spi 
rits  in  so  wonderful  a  manner,  that  we  all  instantly 
set  about  to  assist  him.  A  ladder  was  presently 
brought,  on  which,  as  I  saw  in  my  dream,  he  ran  up 
with  the  nimbleness  of  a  squirrel ;  and  the  servants 
supplied  him  with  water,  which  he  threw  on  the  fire 
from  an  American  gourd.  But  that  growing  weaker, 
the  flame  appeared  to  gain  ground,  breaking  forth 
and  roaring  most  dreadfully,  which  so  frightened  the 
servants,  that  many  of  them,  like  persons  in  despair, 
began  to  leave  him.  But  he,  still  undaunted,  conti 
nued  to  ply  it  with  water,  animating  the  servants  at 
the  same  time,  both  by  his  words  and  actions.  For  a 
long  time  the  contest  appeared  very  doubtful :  but  at 
length  a  venerable  old  man,  with  a  tall  cap  and  an 
iron  rod  in  his  hand,  like  a  lightning  rod,  reached 
out  to  him  a  curious  little  trough,  like  a  wooden  shoe  ! 
On  receiving  this,  be  redoubled  his  exertions,  and 
soon  extinguished  the  fire.  Our  joy  on  the  occasion 
was  unbounded.  J3ut  he,  on  the  contrary, showing 
no  more  of  transport  now  than  of  terror  before, 
looked  rather  sad  at  sight  of  the  great  harm  that  had 
been  done.  Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  after  some 
time  spent  as  in  deep  thought,  he  called  out  with 
much  joy,  u  Well^  Ma  '  not*  if  you  and  the  family 
F 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

w  ill  but  consent,  -we  can  make  afar  better  roof  than 
this  ever  ivas  ;  a  roof  of  such  a  quality,  that  if  well 
kept  together,  it  will  last  for  ever ;  but  if  you  take  it 
apart,  you  will  make  the  house  ten  thousand  times 
worse  than  it  was  before." 

THIS,  though  certainly  a  very  curious  dream, 
needs  no  Daniel  to  interpret  it ;  especially  if  we 
take  Mrs.  Washington's  new  house,  for  the  young 
Colony  Government — the  fire  on  its  east  side,  for 
North's  civil  war — the  gourd  which  Washington 
first  employed,  for  the-American  3  and  6  months 
inlistments — the  old  man  with  his  cap  and  iron  rod, 
for  Doctor  Franklin — the  shoe-like  vessel  which  he 
reached  to  Washington,  for  the  Sabot  or  wooden- 
shoed  nation,  the  French,  whom  Franklin  courted 
a  long  time  for  America — and  the  new  roof  pro 
posed  by  Washington,  for  a  staunch  honest  Repub 
lic — that  "  equal  government,"  which,  by  guarding 
alike  the  welfare  of  all,  ought  by  all  to  be  so  heartily 
beloved  as  to  endure  for  ever. 

HAD  it  been  appointed  unto  any  man  to  quaff  un- 
mingled  happiness  in  this  lite,  George  Washington 
had  been  that  man.  For  where  is  that  pleasurable 
ingredient  with  which  his  cup  was  not  full  and  over 
flowing? 

CROWNED  with  honours — laden  with  riches — blest 
with  health — and  in  \.\\e  joyous  prime  of  27,  sharing 
each  rural  sweet  in  the  society  of  a  charming  wo 
man  who  doated  on  him,  he  surely  bid  fair  to 
spend  his  days  and  nights  of  life  in  ceaseless  plea 
sure — But  ah  ! — as  sings  the  sweet  bard  of  Zion, 

OUR  days,  alas  !  our  mortal  days, 

Are  short  and  wretched  too  ! 
"  Evil  and  few  .'"  the  Patriarch  says, 

And  well  the  Patriarch  knew  ! 
'Tis  but  at  best,  a  narrow  bound, 

That  Heaven  allots  to  men  ; 
And  pains  and  sins  run  through  the  round^ 

Of  three-score  years  and  ten  ! 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  59 

FROM  this,  the  universal  lot,  not  Washington  him 
self  could  obtain  exemption.  For  in  the  midst  of  his 
favourite  labours,  of  the  plough  and  pruning-hook, 
covering  his  extensive  farms  with  all  the  varied  de 
lights  of  delicious  fruits  and  golden  grain,  of  lowing 
heads  and  snowy  flocks,  he  was  suddenly  called  on 
by  his  country,  to  turn  his  plough-share  into  a  sword, 
and  go  forth  to  meet  a  torrent  of  evils  which  threat 
ened  her.  The  fountain  of  those  evils,  whence  at 
length  flowed  the  great  civil  war,  which  for  ever  se 
parated  Britain  and  her  children,  I  proceed  now 
briefly  to  state. 

AFTER  the  reduction  of  Canada,  the  British  offi 
cers  who  commanded  on  that  expedition,  came  to 
Boston  and  New- York,  on  a  visit  to  their  American 
brethren  in  arms,  who  had  served  with  them  in  that 
war.  Soon  as  their  arrival  was  announced,  the  Ame 
ricans  flew  to  meet  and  welcome  them.  They  were 
paraded  through  the  streets  as  the  saviours  of  the 
land — the  doors  of  all  were  thrown  open  to  receive 
them — and  every  day,  during  their  stay,  was  spent 
in  feasting  and  public  dinners,  which,  for  sake  of 
their  beloved  guests,  were  made  as  splendid  as  pos 
sible,  though  always  through  the  aid  of  obliging 
neighbours.  The  rooms  glittered  with  borrowed 
plate — wines  of  every  vintage  sparkled  on  the  crowd 
ed  side-boards — while  the  long-extendedtables  were 
covered  with  finest  fish  and  flesh,  succeeded  by  the 
richest  desserts.  The  British  officers  were  equally 
charmed  and  astonished  at  such  elegant  hospitality  j 
and,  on  their  return  to  England,  gave  full  scope  to 
their  feelings.  They  painted  the  colonial  wealth  in 
the  colourings  of  romance  ;  and  spoke  of  the  Ameri 
cans  as  a  people,  who,  in  comparison  of  the  British, 
lived  like  kings. 

THUS,  American  hospitality,  by  a  strange  perver 
sion,  had  nearly  destroyed  American  Liberty  !  For, 
from  that  time,  the  British  ministry  began  to 
look  upon  the  Americans  with  an  evil  eye,  and  to  de 
vise  ways  and  means  to  make  us  "bear  apart  of  their 


60  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

burdens  /"  But  what  did  they  mean  by  this  ?  Did  they 
mean  to  acknowledge  us  as  sons  of  Britons  ;  equally 
free  and  independent  with  our  brethren  in  England? 
and,  like  them,  allowed  a  representation  in  Parlia 
ment,  who  should  freely  vote  our  money  for  the 
common  cause  ? 

OH  no !  an  idea  so  truly  British  and  honourable, 
was  not  at  all  in  their  thoughts.  We  were  not  to  be 
treated  as  brothers,  but  as  slaves  .'  over  whom  an  un 
conditional  right  was  claimed,  to  tax  and  take  our 
property  at  pleasure  !  !  ! 

READER,  if  you  be  a  Briton,  be  a  Briton  still — 
preserve  the  characteristic  calm  and  candour  of  a 
Briton.  I  am  not  about  to  say  one  word  against 
your  nation.  No  !  I  know  them  too  well :  and  thank 
God,  I  can  say,  after  several  -years  residence  among' 
them,  I  believe  them  to  be  as  Honest,  Charitable, 
and  Magnanimous  a  people  as  any  under  the  canopy 
of  Heaven.  I  am  about  to  speak  of  the  MINISTRY 
only,  who  certainly,  at  that  time,  were  a  most  am 
bitious  and  intriguing  junto,  who  by  badmeans  had 
attained  power  ;  and  by  -worse  were  endeavouring  to 
extend  it,  even  to  the  destruction  of  both  American 
and  British  Liberty,  as  the  excellent  Mr.  Pitt 
charged  them, — No  Englishman  can  desire  fuller 
evidence  than  this  one  tyrannical  claim  made  against 
us  by  Lord  North — "  taxation  -without  representa 
tion  !  /"  As  a  plea  for  such  despotic  doings,  NORTH 
and  his  creatures  began  with  boldly  trumpeting  the 
wonderful  kindness  they  had  conferred  on  America. 
u  They,  it  seems,  "  frst  discovered  the  country  ! — 
they  settled  it — they  always  had  defended  it.  It  -was 
their  blood — their  treasure- — their  ships  and  sailors, 
and  soldiers,  that  created  the  British  colonies  !  .' 

O  DEAR  ! — and  what  then  ? — why,  to  be  sure,  af 
ter  having  done  such  mighty  things  for  the  Ameri 
cans,  they  had  as  clear  a  right  to  their  gold  and  silver, 
as  a  butcher  has  to  the  hair  and  hides  of  his  cattle  ! 

THIS  language  was  actually  carried  into  Parlia 
ment  !  where  a  Mr  Charles  Townsend,  to  enforce 
the  stamp  act,  cried  out, "  Who  are  these  Americans  ? 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  61 

Are  they  not  our  children,  planted  by  our  care,  nour 
ished  by  our  indulgence,  and  protected  by  our  arms?" 

AT  this  the  brave  Colonel  Barre,  with  cheeks  in 
flamed  with  virtuous  indignation,  thus  thundered 
forth  against  the  insolent  speechifier.  "  They  plant' 
ed  by  your  care  !  No,  sir :  your  oppressions  planted 
them  in  America.  They  Jledfrom  your  tyranny  to 
a  then  uncultivated  and  inhospitable  country,  ruhere 
they  exposed  themselves  to  all  the  evils  zvhich  a  wil 
derness,  filled  -with  blood-thirsty  savages,  could 
threaten.  And  yet,  actuated  by  true  English  love  of 
liberty,  they  thought  all  these  evils  light  in  comparison 
zuith  what  they  had  suffered  in  their  ow?i  country, 
and  from  you,  who  ought  to  have  been  thtir  friends. 

u  They  nourished  by  your  indulgence  !  No,  sir  ! 
they  grerv  by  your  neglect.  As  soon  av  you  be  an  to 
indulge  them,  that  boasted  indulgence  rvas  to  send 
them  hungry  packs  of  your  own  creatures,  to  spy  out 
their  liberties  I — to  misrepresent  their  actions — ana. 
to  prey  upon  their  substance  ! — Yes,  sir,  you  sent  their,, 
men,  tohose  behaviour  has  often  caused  the  blood  of 
those  sons  cf  Liberty  to  recoil  within  them — men  pro- 
moted  by  you  to  the  highest  seats  of  justice,  in  that 
country,  zvho,  to  my  knowledge,  had  good  cause  to 
dread  a  court  of  justice  in  their  own! — They  protect 
ed  Oy  your  arms  ! — No,  sir  !  They  have  nobly  taken 
up  arms  in  your  defence;  have  exerted  a  most  heroic 
valour,  amidst  their  daily  labours,  for  the  defence  oj 
a  country  "whose frontier  was  drenched  in  blood^  while 
its  interior  parts  gave  up  all  their  saving-.?  for  o:-<r 
emolument!" 

ALL  this  was  very  true.  For  the  Americans  had 
not  only  planted,  but  in  a  great  measure  protected 
themselves.  In  the  French  and  Indian  war,  from  '55 
to  '63,  they  lost  nearly  30,000  of  their  stoutest  young 
men  !  And  bv  regular  returns  it  appears  that  Mas 
sachusetts  alone  expended  about  50,0007.  sterling 
in  that  time  !  !  !  And  moreover,  they  had  never  he 
sitated  for  a  moment  to  furnish  to  the  last  man  and 
the  last  shilling  wnatever  Britain  had  required. 
F  2 


62  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

BUT,  alas  !  what  signifies  right  against  might  ! 
When  a  king  wants  money  for  his  own  pride,  or  for 
his  hungry  relations,  and  when  his  ministers  want 
stakes  for  their  gaming  tables,  or  diamond  necklaces 
for  their  mistresses,  they  will  have  it,  though  plun 
dered  colonies  should  lack  bread  and  spelling  books 
for  their  children.  For  in  the  year  '63,  when  the 
lamp  of  God  was  burning  with  peculiar  brightness  in 
our  land,  and  both  Britain  and  her  colonies  enjoyed  a 
measure  of  blessings  seldom  indulged  to  the  most 
favoured  nations — when,  at  the  very  mention  of 
Old  England,  our  hearts  leaped  for  joy,  as  at  the 
name  of  a  great  and  venerable  mother,  and  that  mo 
ther  felt  equal  transport  at  thoughts  of  us,  her 
flourishing  colonies — when  all  the  produce  of  these 
vast  and  fertile  regions  was  poured  into  her  beloved 
lap,  and  she,  in  return,  not  allowing  us  the  trouble  to 
make  even  a  hob-nail,  heaped  our  families  with  all 
the  necessaries  and  elegancies  of  her  ingenious  art 
ists — when, though  far  separated  by  an  ocean's  roar, 
we  were  yet  so  united  by  love  and  mutual  helpful 
ness,  that  the  souls  of  Columbus,  Raleigh,  and  Smith, 
looking  down  from  Heaven,  with  joy  beheld  the 
consummation  of  all  their  labours  and  wishes!  At 
that  happy  period,  lord  North  brought  in  a  bill  to 
tax  the  colonies,  without  allowing  us  a  voice  in  their 
councils  !  !  The  colonies  were  thunderstruck  :  and 
Britain  herself  groaning  through  all  her  islands, 
gave  signs  of  woe,  that  all  was  lost  /" 
DOCTOR  Franklin,  who  was  then  in  England  as  a 
colony  agent, on  hearing  that  this  most  iniquitous  bill 
had  actually  passed  both  houses,  and  was  ratified  by 

he  king,  wrote  to  afriend  in  America  in  these  words 
— "  The  sun  of  our  liberty  it  set.    You  must  all  now 

ight  up  the  double  candles  of  Industry  and  Econo 
my.  But,  above  all  things,  encourage  theyoungpeo* 
pie  to  marry  and  raise  up  children  as  fast  as  they  can." 
MEANING,  that  America,  yet  too  weak  to  resist 

he  chains  which  a  wicked  ministry  were  forging  for 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  63 

her,  should  instantly  fly  to  heaven-ordered  marriage, 
for  her  heroic  youth,  to  rend  the  ignominious  bonds 
from  their  own  and  their  father's  arms. 

BUT  the  sons  of  Columbia,  though  few  in  number, 
had  too  long  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  Liberty  and  Pro 
perty,  to  part  with  them  so  tamely,  because  a  king 
and  his  minions  had  ordered  it.  No  !  blessed  be  God, 
their  conduct  was  such  as  to  strike  the  world  with 
this  glorious  truth,  that  a  brave  people,  who  kno^9 
their  rights,  are  not  to  be  enslaved. 

FOR,  soon  as  it  was  told  in  America,  that  the 
stamp-act  had  passed,  the  people  rose  up  against  it  as 
one  man — the  old  grudges  between  churchmen  and 
dissenters  were  instantly  forgotten — every  man  look 
ed  to  his  fellow  as  to  a  brother  for  aid  against  the 
coming  slavery — their  looks  on  each  other  were  as 
lightnings  in  a  parched  forest — the  sacred  fire  kin 
dled,  and  ran  from  end  to  end  of  the  continent.  In 
every  colony  the  people  rushed  into  patriotic  socie 
ties.. .reminded  each  other  of  theirrights... denounced 
the  stamp-act  as  a  most  audacious  infringement — 
burnt  in  effigy  the  promoters  of  it — destroyed  the 
houses  of  those  degenerated  Americans  who  had  re 
ceived  the  stamps  to  sell — and  menaced  loudly  a 
non-intercourse  with  Britain,  if  the  act  was  not  im 
mediately  repealed! 

THIS  spirited  behaviour  filled  all  England  with 
amazement.  Every  man  there,  no  matter  what  his 
principles  or  politics,  felt  it  to  the  very  quick.  The 
manufacturers  and  merchants  trembled  ;  the  tories 
raved  ;  the  whigs  rejoiced,  and,  with  the  great  Pitt 
and  Burke  at  their  head,  publicly  applauded  the  Ame 
ricans,  and  denounced  the  stamp-act  as  entirely  con 
trary  to  the  spirit  of  British  freedom.  In  short,  the 
ery  against  it  was  so  loud,  both  in  England  and  Ame 
rica,  that  the  ministry,  covered  with  shame,  were 
obliged  to  give  way,  and  abandon  the  project. 

THE  cloud,  which  had  hung  so  dark  over  the  two 
countries,  being  thus  happily  scattered,  many  began 
to  cherish  the  hope,  that  we  should  have  a  clear  skv 


64  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

again,  and  that  the  former  golden  days  would  soon 
return.  But  alas !  those  golden  days  were  gone,  to 
return  no  more  !  Government  had  shown  the  cloven 
foot — and  America  had  taken  a  fright  which  nothing 
but  whole  years  of  kindliest  treatment  could  ever 
sooth.  But,  unfortunately,  the  ministry  were  in  no 
humour  to  show  that  kindness.  Long  accustomed 
to  speak  of  the  Americans  as  a  pack  of  u  convicts, 
whom  by  transportation,  they  had  kindly  saved  from 
the  gallorus"  instead  of  giving  them  credit  for  their 
late  spirited  behaviour,  they  considered  it  as  the 
height  of  audacity  :  and  though  from  necessity  they 
had  yielded  to  their  demands,  they  were  determined 
to  have  revenge  on  the  first  opportunity.  That  op 
portunity  was  too  soon  afforded. 

IT  should  have  been  stated,  that  with  the  duty  on 
stamp  paper,  similar  duties  had  been  laid  on  glass, 
tea,  &c.  &c.  all  of  which  had  been  repealed  with  the 
stamp  act,  except  that  on  tea.  This  the  ministry  had 
artfully  retained  :  partly  to  cover  the  shame  of  their 
defeat,  but  chiefly  in  hopes  of  familiarizing-  the  Ame 
ricans  with  taxation.  For  though  Lord  North  was 
never,  that  I  know  of,  charged  with  being  a  wizard, 
yet  did  he  not  lack  sense  to  know  that  if  he  could 
but  prevail  on  the  young  Mammoth  to  submit  to  a 
tax,  though  as  small  as  a  Gnat,  he  soon,  should  bring 
him  to  swallow  a  Camel !  But  glory  to  God  !  the 
Americans  had  too  much  of  British  blood,  to  allow 
an  unconstitutional  tax  in  any  shape  or  size.  Inde 
pendent  and  coy  as  the  birds  of  their  fort- sts,  they 
would  not  suifer  a  stranger's  hand  even  to  touch  the 
sacred  nest  of  their  rights.  As  soon  therefore  as 
the  ministry  began,  in  1773,  to  order  "the  collection 
of  taxes  on  tea*"*  the  colonies  took  fire  again  :  and  the 
old  flame  of '53  was  completely  rekindled  through 
out  the  continent.  But  still  ia  the  very  storm  and 
tempest  of  their  rage,  they  never  lost  sight  of  the 
respect  due  their  mother  country.  Their  numerous 
letters  and  petitions  to  the  KING,  to  the  PARLIA 
MENT,  and  to  the  PEOPLE  of  Britain;  all,  all,  breathe 
the  full  spirit  of  dutiful  children,  and  of  loving 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  65 

brothers.  In  terms  the  most  modest  and  pathe 
tic,  they  state  the  extreme  injustice  and  barbarity  of 
such  measures — their  total  inconsistency  with  the 
spirit  of  the  British  Constitution — their  positive  in- 
admissibility  into  America — or,  in  that  event,  the 
certainty  of  a  civil  war,  with  all  its  fatal  effects  on 
the  two  countries. 

TEMPERED  with  meekness, and  pointed  with  truth, 
their  arguments  reach  the  hearts  of  the  British  patri 
ots,  who  all  fly  in  eager  myriads  to  extinguish  the 
kindling  flames  of  civil  war.  Foremost  of  this  no 
ble  band  is  seen  the  venerable  form  of  Chatham. 
Though  worn  with  years  and  infirmities,  he  quits  his 
bed  ;  and,  muffled  up  in  flannels  and  furs,  crawls  to 
the  house  of  lords,  to  give  his  last  advice,  and  yet 
avert,  if  possible,  the  impending  ruin.  He  rises  to 
speak.  A  solemn  silence  prevails,  while  the  looks 
of  the  crowded  audience  are  bending  forward  upon 
him,  to  catch  the  accents  of  his  magic  tongue.  His 
eyes  are  upon  the  ground  :  but  his  thoughts  are  not 
there  :  they  are  travelling  like  sun-beams  over  all 
the  earth.  Britain  and  America,  with  all  their  popu 
lation  and  interests,  lie  open  before  his  vast  mind, 
with  the  varied  evils  of  the  threatened  war.  In 
Britain  he  beholds  a  fearful  pause  in  the  pulse  of 
industry  and  joy — the  loom  is  still — the  anvil  re 
sounds  no  more — while  the  harbours,  late  alive  with 
bustling  business  and  cheerful  songs,  now  c/fv./:led 
with  silent  dismantled  ships,  present  a  scene  of  na 
tional  mourning.  In  the  colonies  he  sees  the  plains, 
lately  crowned  with  joyful  harvests,  now  covered 
with  armed  bands  of  Britons  and  Americans  rush 
ing  to  murderous  battle — while  in  Europe,  the  proud 
Spaniard,  the  sarcastic  Gaul,  and  broad  grinning 
Hollander,  with  shrugs  and  sneers  enjoy  the  coming 
fray,  as  a  welcome  prelude  to  the  downfall  of  their 
hated  rival.  He  next  paints  the  Americans  as  native 
sons  of  Britain — and,  at  once,  enthusiastic  lovers  of 
liberty  and  of  their  mother  country — ready,  as  her 
children,  to  give  her  every  thing  ;  but,  as  her  slaves 


66  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

nothing.  Though  harshly  treated,  they  still  love  her, 
and  wish  for  nothing  so  much  as  a  hearty  reconcilia 
tion*  and  a  glad  return  of  all  the  former  friendships 
and  blessings.  At  thought  of  this  most  desirable  of 
all  events,  the  parent  soul  of  the  great  orator  is  stir 
red  within  him,  his  angel  frame  trembles  with  strong 
feeling,  which  heaves  his  labouring  bosom,  and 
swells  his  changeful  face.  At  length  his  powerful 
words  break  forth. 

"  FOR  God's  sake  then,  my  lords,  let  the  way  be 
"  instantly  opened  for  reconciliation.  I  say  instantly ; 
4t  or  it  will  be  too  late  for  ever.  The  Americans  tell 
*'  you — and  remember,it  is  the  language  of  the  whole 
44  continent — they  tell  you,  they  will  neper  submit  to 
44  be  taxed  without  their  own  consent.  They  insist 
u  on  a  repeal  of  your  laws.  They  do  not  ask  it  as  A 
44  favour.  They  claim  it  as  a  right.  They  demand  it. 
"  — And  I  tell  you  the  acts  must  be  repealed.  They 
"  ^v^ll  be  repealed.  You  cannot  enforce  them.  But 
44  bare  repeal  will  not  satisfy  this  enlightened  and  spi- 
44  rited  people.  What !  satisfy  them  by  repealing  a  bit 
44  of  paper — by  repealing  a  piece  of  parchment !  No  ! 
*  you  must  declare  you  have  no  right  to  tax  them. 

Then  they  may  trust  you — then  they  will  confide  in 
44  you.  There  are,  my  lords,  three  millions  of  whigs, 
44  in  America.  Three  millions  of  whigs,  with  arms 
<4  in  their  hands,  are  a  formidable  body  /  There  are, 
44  I  trust,  double  that  number  of  whigs  in  England  : 
a  And  I  hope  the  whigs  in  both  countries  will  join 
44  and  make  a  common  cause.  They  are  united  by 
44  the  strongest  ties  of  sentiment  and  interest ;  and 
u  will  therefore,  I  hope,  fly  to  support  their  brethren. 
4  In  this  most  alarming  and  distracted  state  of  our 
44  affairs,  though  borne  down  by  a  cruel  disease,  I 
44  have  crawled  to  this  house,  my  lords,  to  give  you 
44  my  best  advice,  which  is,  to  beseech  his  majesty 
44  that  orders  may  instantly  be  dispatched  to  General 
44  Gage  to  remove  the  troops  from  Boston.  Their 
"  presence  is  a  source  of  perpetual  irritation  and 
"  suspicion  to  those  people.  How  can  thev  trust  you, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  67 

*  with  the  bayonet  at  their  breasts  ?  They  have  all 
44  the  reason  in  the  world  to  believe  that  you  mean 
44  their  death  or  slavery.  Let  us  then  set  to  this  bu 
44  siness  in  earnest.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost. 
44  Every  moment  is  big  with  danger.  Nay,  while  I 
44  am  now  speaking;  the  decisive  blow  may  be  struck, 
44  and  millions  involved  in  the  dreadful  consequen- 
44  ces  !  The  very  first  drop  of  blood  that  is  drawn, 
44  will  make  a  wound  perhaps  never  to  be  healed — 
44  a  wound  of  such  rancorous  malignity,  as  will,  in 
41  all  probability,  mortify  the  whole  body,  and  hasten, 
44  both  on  England  and  America,  that  dissolution 
44  to  which  all  nations  are  destined." 

HERE  was  a  speech,  sufficient,  one  would  have 
thought,  to  stop  the  career  of  the  maddest  politicians. 
— But  neither  this,  nor  the  advice  of  lord  Camden, 
nor  the  numerous  and  pathetic  addresses  from  Lon 
don,  Liverpool,  and  Jamaica,  could  produce  the  least 
change  in  the  views  of  the  ministry.  u  Let  the  Ame 
ricans"  said  lord  Gower  with  a  sneer,  44  sit  talk 
ing  about  their  natural  rights  !  their  divine  rights  ! 
and  such  stuff!  -we  will  send  them  over  a  feiv  regi 
ments  of  grenadiers  to  help  their  consultations  ln 
Thus  high-toned  was  the  language  of  ministry,  and 
thus  stoutly  bent  on  the  submission  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  Indeed,  in  some  instances,  they  would  not 
honour  them  so  far  as  to  give  their  u  humble  peti 
tions"  a  reading  ;  but  consigned  them  to  what  the 
whig  opposition  pleasantly  called, 44  the  committee  of 
oblivion." 

THE  tea-tax  was,  of  course,  at  any  rate  to  be  col 
lected.  But  as  there  could  be  no  tax  without  tea,  nor 
tea  unless  it  was  s^nt,  several  ships  of  that  obnoxious 
weed  were  purposely  dispatched  for  America.  Lord 
Fairfax  happened  to  be  at  Mount  Vernon  when 
Washington  received  advice  from  a  friend  in  London 
that  the  tea-ships  were  about  to  sail....44  Well,  my 
lord"  said  he,  4t  and  so  the  ships,  -with  the  gun-pow 
der  tea,  are,  it  seems,  on  their  way  to  America  /" 

44  Well,  but  colonel,  "why  do  you  call  it  gunpowder 
tea?" 


68  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  Why,  I  am  afraid,  my  lord"  replied  Washing 
ton,  "  it  zvill  prove  inflammable,  and  produce  an  ex 
plosion  that  -will  shake  both  countries" 

THE  event  corresponded  with  Washington's  pre 
diction.  Looked  on  as  sent  to  insult  and  enslave  them, 
the  ships  were  every  where  received  with  the  hearti 
est  curses  of  the  people,  who  quickly  boarded  them 
— in  some  places  furiously  emptying  their  fragrant 
cargoes  into  the  flashing  deep.. .in  others,  sternly 
ordering  the  captains  to  depart,  under  the  penalty  of 
being  instantly  tucked  up  to  the  yard  arms. 

ON  the  arrival  of  this  news  in  England,  the  counte 
nance  of  f'ie  minister  was  dark  with  fury;  and  he  pro 
ceeded,  without  delay,  to  mix  up  for  the  colonies  a 
cup  of  fiery  indignation,  of  which  Boston,  it  seems, 
was  to  have  the  largest  dose.  As  that  most  unduti- 
ful  child  had  always  led  off  the  dance  in  outrage  and 
rebellion  against  the  parent  state,  it  was  determined 
that  she  should  pay  the  piper  for  old  and  new. ..that 
her  purse  should  answer  for  all  the  tea  that  had  been 
destroyed. ..that  her  luxuriant  trade,  which  had  made 
her  so  wanton,  should  be  taken  from  her — and  that, 
in  spite  of  her  high  looks  and  proud  stomach,  she 
should  sit  on  the  stool  of  repentance,  until  his  graci 
ous  majesty,  George  III.  should  be  pleased  to  pro 
nounce  her  pardon  /  / 

ON  the  receipt  of  this  intelligence  at  Boston,  the 
passions  of  the  people  flew  up,  five  hundred  degrees 
aoove  blood-heat!  throughout  the  continent  the  fever 
raged  with  equal  fury.  The  colonies  all  extolled 
Eoston  for  the  firmness  with  which  she  had  asserted 
her  chartered  righ te.... Liberal  contributions  were 
made  for  her  relief:  and  this  ministerial  attack  on  her 
liberties,  was  considered  as  an  attack  on  the  liberties 
of  the  whole,  which  were  now  thought  to  be  in  such 
danger,  as  loudly  to  call  for  a  general  congress  from 
all  the  colonies,  to  deliberate  on  their  eommon  inte 
rest.  This  most  ynkingly  body  commenced  its  ses 
sion  in  Philadelphia,  September  5th,  1774.  They  be 
gan  with  publishing  a  bill  of  rights ,  wherein  they 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  69 

repeated  '*  their  loyalty  and  love  to  the  mother  coun 
try,  together  with  an  earnest  wish  for  constitutional 
dependence  on  her.  But,  at  the  same  time,  they  beg- 
ged  leave  to  assure  her,  that  though  she,  in  her  ex 
cessive  fondness,  might  suffer  herself  to  be  bound 
and  insulted  by  North  and  Bute,  and  other  Philis 
tine  lords,  yet  they,  for  their  parts,  were  resolved, 
like  true  sons  of  British  Sampsons,  to  rise  and  fight 
to  the  last  locks  of  their  heuds.  They  asserted,  and 
begged  le;»ve  to  d  >  it  pretty  roundly  too,  as  it  was 
now  high  time  to  speak  plain,  that  by  the  immutable 
laivs  of  nature*.. hy  the  principles  of  the  British  con 
stitution- -.and  by  their  several  charters,  they  had  a 
right  to  libi  rty,  the  liberty  of  British  subjects — that 
their  evrr  honored  fathers,  at  the  time  of  their  emi 
gration  to  this  country,  were  entitled  to  all  the 
rights  of  freemen — and  since,  by  such  emigration 
they  had  neither  forfeited  nor  surrendered  these 
rights — that  they  their  children,  were  determined, 
at  the  risk  of  every  thing  short  of  their  eternal  sal' 
vation,  to  defend  and  to  transmit  them  entire  to 
their  innocent  and  beloved  offspring." 

MILLIONS  of  choice  spirits  in  England,  Scotland, 
and  Ireland,  cried  out  "  thafs  ivell  said!  and  may 
GocVs  arms  strike  with  our  American  brethren  ! 
This  was  coming  to  the  point,  and  produced  the  ef 
fect  that  might  have  been  expected.  For,  instantly 
all  exportation  of  arms  and  ammunition  to  America 
was  prohibited — large  reinforcements  were  sent  to 
the  king's  troops  at  Boston — and  every  step  was  ta 
ken  to  compel  the  colonies  to  submission.  This  fill 
ed  up  the  measure  of  American  hatred  to  the  minis 
try,  and  called  forth  the  most  vigorous  preparation* 
for  war.  Every  ounce  of  gunpowder  was  husbanded 
like  so  much  gold-dust.  Powder-mills  and  musquet- 
manufactories  were  erected  in  most  of  the  colonies  if 
while  others,  not  liking  this  slow  way  of  doing 
things,  laid  violent  hands  at  once  upon  all  the  king'* 
arms  and  ammunition  that  could  be  found. 
G 


70  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

THE  tremendous  cloud  of  civil  war  was  now  rea 
dy  to  burst:  and  April  the  19th,  1775,  w  »s  the  fatal 
day  m. irked  out  by  mysterious  heaven,  for  tearing 
away  the  stout  infant  colonies  from  the  long  loved 
paps  of  the  old  mother  country.  Early  that  morn 
ing,  general  Gage,  whose  force  in  Boston  was  aug 
mented  to  1O,000  men,  sent  a  detachment  of  100O  to 
destroy  some  military  stores  which  the  Americans 
had  collected  in  the  town  of  Concord,  near  Lexing 
ton.  On  coming  to  the  place,  they  found  the  town 
militia  assembled  on  the  green  near  the  road. 
u  Throw  down  your  arms,  and  disperse^  you  rebels" 
was  the  cry  of  Pitcairn  the  British  officer ;  which 
was  immediately  followed  by  a  general  discharge  of 
the  soldiers  ;  whereby  eight  of  the  Americans  were 
killed,  and  several  wounded.  The  provincials  re 
tired.  But  finding  that  the  British  still  continued 
their  fire,  they  returned  it  with  good  interest ;  and 
soon  strewed  the  green  with  the  dead  and  wounded. 
Such  fierce  discharges  of  musquetry  produced  the 
effect  that  might  have  been  expected  in  a  land  of 
freemen,  who  saw  their  gallant  brothers  suddenly 
engaged  in  the  strife  of  death.  Never  before  had 
the  bosoms  ot  the  swains  experienced  such  a  tumult 
of  heroic  passions.  Then  throwing  aside  the  imple 
ments  of  husbandry,  and  leaving  their  teams  in  the 
half-finished  furrows,  they  flew  to*  their  houses  $ 
snatched  up  their  arms  ;  and  bursting  from  their  wild 
shrieking  wives  and  children,  hasted  to  the  glorious 
field  where  LIBERTY,  heaven-born  goddess,  was  to 
be  bought  for  blood.  Pouring  in  now  from  every 
quarter,  were  seen  crowds  of  sturdy  peasants,  with 
Gushed  cheeks  M\&  faming  eyes^  eager  for  battle* 
Even  age  itself  forgot  its  wonted  infirmities  :  and 
hands,  long  palsied  with  years,  threw  aside  the 
cushioned  crutch,,  and  grasped  the  deadly  firelock* 
Fast  as  they,  came  up,  their  ready  muskets  began  to 
pour  the  long  red  streams  of  fiery  vengeance.  The 
enemy  fell  back,  appalled!  The  shouting  farmers, 
awiit  closing  on  their  rear,  followed  their  s**:«>s  with 


Page  71. 


Battle  of  Lexington. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  71 

death,  while  the  British,  sis  fast  as  thi-y  could  load, 
wheeling  on  their  pursue!  s,  nturntd  the  deadly  pla 
toons.  Like  some  tremendous  whirlwind,  whose 
roaring  sweep  all  at  once  darkens  the  day,  riding  the 
air  in  tempests  ;  so,  sudden  and  terrible,  amidst 
clouds  of  dust,  and  smoke,  and  flame,  the  flight  of 
Britain's  warriors  thundered  along  the  road.  But 
their  flight  was  not  in  safety.  Every  step  of  their 
retreat  was  stained  with  the  trickling  crimson.  Eve 
ry  hedge  or  fence  by  which  they  passed,  took  large 
toll  ot  hostile  carcasses.  They  would,  in  all  proba 
bility,  have  been  cut  off  to  a  man,  had  not  general 
Gage,  luckily  recollected,  that,£0r/z  of  Britons,  these 
Yankees  might  possess  some  of  the  family  valour; 
and  therefore  sent  100O  men  to  support  the  detach 
ment.  This  reinforcement  met  the  poor  fellows, 
faint  with  fear  and  fatigue,  and  brought  them  sa.lt • 
ly  off  to  Boston. 

IN'  this  their  first  field,  the  American  farnv  rs 
gleaned  of  the  British  about  sixty-three,  in  slain,  ^nd 
two  hundred  and  eighty  wounded  and  prison*  rs, 
The  fire  of  civil  discord  now  broke  out  a  roari-  g 
flame:  and,  with  equal  ardour,  both  parties  hast«.n. 
cd  to  clap  on  the  "  kettle  of  war" 

National  prejudices  ought  to  be  scouted  from  the 
face  of  the  earth.  Colonel  Grant  actually  said  in 
parliament,  that  "  with  five  regiments  he  could  mat  <  // 
through  all  America!  !  /"  Oh  !  had  that  profou-  d 
philosopher  but  beheld  the  SCRUB  RACE  above,  he 
.might  have  learned  two  Mz;?£\s...  first,  that  he  was 
never  born  to  be  a  prophet.  And  secondly,  that  it 
is  not  to  this  or  that  country  exclusively,  that  wt>  are 
to  look  for  brave  men,  but  in  every  country  where 
the  people  are  accustomed  to  breathe  the  proud  <air 
of  liberty,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  sweet  fruits  of  their 
labours  as  all  their  own* 

SOON  as  the  battle  of  Lexington  was  told  to  the 

astonished  ministry  in  England,  a  grand  caucus  of 

lords  was  held,  to  consider  the  best  ways  and  mt<i)tt 

to  bring  the  rebels  to  their  senses.     u  One  spoke 

G3 


72  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

after  this  manner,  and  another  aft? r  that."  Presently 
up  rose  lord  Gtorge  Gtrmaine,  and  with  all  Mu- 
locl-  in  his  looks,  huil*  dthe  cursesof  AmaK  k  against 
the  Ann  i leans.  "  Vengeance  !  gentlemen  !"  he  cri 
ed/  veng-ance!  your  insulted  ishud — your  wound 
ed  honour — yc»ur  murdered  countrymen— all  cry 
havoc  /  and  bid  slip  the  dogs  ot  war.  Gods  !  can  we 
sit  di  bating  here,  when  rank  rebellion  loids  it  over 
our  colonies,  and  the  tongues of rebel  cms  arc  rtdin 
the  blood  of  our  bravest  soldiers  slain.  No  !  let  our 
swift-avenging  armies  fly  across  the  ocean,  and  tight- 
ing  like  a  tornado  on  the  rebel  continent,  from  end  to 
end,  with  fire  and  sword  sweep  both  town  and 
country  before  them." 

HERE  the  celebrated  Mr.  Wilkes,  in  the  spirit  of 
a  TRUE  BRITON,  roared  out :  "  Aye,  that's  right ! 
that's  right  !  lord  George  !  that's  exactly  according 

to  our  old  English  proverb the  greater  the  € cto- 

ar</,  the  crueller  the  devil  I" 

"Co-ward!  Sir  !  '  replied  lord  George,  black  with 
rage.  "  Coward  !  what  do  you  mean  by  that^  sir  ?n 

44  I mean^  «r,"  returned  Mr.  Wilkes, .-*'  that  tht 
hero  who  could  not  stand  fire  on  the  plums  of  M'mden$ 
does  well  to  advise  Jit  e  and  swoi  d  in  the  woods  &f 
America" 

UPON  this,  the  unlovely  names  of  liar  and  sc&u-n- 
dr*l  were  exchanged  with  »  freedom  which  showed 
(hat  in  the  quarrel  with  America  the  passions  ofihe 
two  parties  knew  no  bounds.  Happily  for  America, 
this  spirit  of  Mr.  Wilkes  was  not  peculiar  to  him 
self.  Thousands  of  enlightened  and  virtuous  whig* 
breathed  it  with  equal  ardour.  The  gallant  duke  «i 
Buckingham,  on  hearing,  how  bravely  the  Ameri 
cans  had  behaved  at  Lexington,  exclaimed,  "  WtiLt 
thank  God  !  there  are  yet  some  wins  in  the  world  that 
beat  high  with  British  blood.'* 

Lord  Effingham,  also,  being  required  to  take  a| 
arms  against  the  Americans,  returned  his  swovd  to 
the  king,  saying,  "  ke  had  received  it  on  Krth,  l.t 
maintain  the  cause 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  73 

BUT  though  the  right  heads  in  England  were  nu 
merous,  they  were  not  sufficiently  so  to  direct  the 
wrong  heads — A  feeble  minister,  and  his  puny 
lord/ings,  s.ill  heU  the  reins  :  and  though,  compar 
ed  with  the  great  nation  which  they  governed,  they 
seemed  but  as  monkeys  on  the  back  of  a  mammoth, 
yet  they  had,  too  long,  the  fatal  art  so  to  blindiold 
and  goad  the  noble  animal,  as  to  make  her  run  riot 
over  her  own  children,  and  crush  thousands  of  them 
into  their  bloody  graves. 

ON  this  day,  June  12,  1775,  general  Gage  issued 
his  proclamation  of  rebellion,  with  threats  of  heaviest 
vengeance  against  the  rebels  ;  extending  however  in 
the  king's  name,  the  golden  sceptre  of  mercy  to  all 
true  penitents,  Samuel  Adams,  and  John  Hancock, 
excepted.  These  gentlemen,  by  their  extraordinary 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  had  so  mortally  offended 
the  ministry,  that  nothing  short  of  their  lives  could 
make  atonement.  Orders  were  sent  privately  to  Ge 
neral  Gage,  to  seize  and  hang  them  in  Boston,  or  to 
send  them  over  in  irons  to  be  hung  in  England.  But 
God  gave  his  angels  charge  of  them,  so  that  not  a 
hair  of  their  heads  was  hurt. 

THE  British,  10,000  strong,  were  still  in  Boston, 
where,  ever  since  the  affair  of  Concord,  they  had 
been  surrounded  by  an  army  of  2O,OOO  provincials, 
all  so  eager  to  t«»K:e  the  city  by  storm^  that  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  their  officers  could  restrain 
them* 

How  adorable  the  goodness  of  God  for  ordering; 
that  the  ministerial  attack  on  our  liberties,  should  fall 
.en  the  populous  and  high-toned  New-Englanders ! 
The  heroic  spirit  with  which  they  repelled  it,  should, 
to  eternity,  endear  them  to  their  southern  brethren. 


74  j.iFK  OK  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Battle  of  Bunker* x-h ill— of  Si///h  fin's  I* land— Decla 
ration  of  IndrprndeiH't — Dr/'rat  of  the  Jmrricuns 
on  Long- Island — Uoive  threatens  violently — Times 


•  And  fame  of  Bunker's  hill  endure, 
Till  time  itself  shall  be  no  more. 


THIS  hill  of  fame  still  lifts  his  yellow  brow,  half 
hid  in  sedge,  on  the  plains  of  fiharlestown — a  lovely 
port  north  of  Boston,  to  which  it  is  united  by  an  ele 
gant  bridge.  To  confine  the  British  as  closely  as 
possible  to  Boston,  the  American  generals,  on  the 
night  of  June  16,  dispatched  150O  men  to  throw  up 
an  entrenchment  on  Bunker's-hill.  The  party  did 
not  begin  their  work  till  about  12  o'clock;  but  ex 
erted  such  a  spirit,  that,  by  day-break,  they  had  sur 
rounded  themselves  with  a  tolerably  decent  ditch— 
without  embrasures  indeed,  because  they  had  no 
cannon  to  stare  through  them  ;  nor  even  a  bayonet  to 
bristle  over  its  ridges. 

SOON  as  the  rosy  morn  appeared,  they  were  disco* 
vered  by  the  British  men  oi  war,  which  quickly  salu 
ted  them  with  their  great  guns  and  mortars.  But,  re 
gardless  of  shells  and  shot,  the  dauntless  Yankees 
•till  drank  their  Switched  and  plied  their  work. 


*  A  mild  moralizing  malmsey,  made  of  molasses 
imd  water,  which  the  prudent  Yankees  drink,  to  the 
great  benefit  of  their  health  and  senses,  while  too  viany 
of  their  southern  neighbours  are  be-fooling  and  be- 
poisoning  themselves  with  grog. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  73 

FINDING  that  his  ships  of  war,  with  all  their  thun 
ders,  had  not  beer,  able  to  dislodge  them,  Gage  or 
dered  to  their  aid  3000  men  with  a  train  of  artillery, 
under  command  of  Generals  Howe  and  Pigot.  By 
twelve  o'clock  they  were  all  safely  landed  on  the 
Charlestown  side,  near  BunkerVhill,  the  destined 
place  of  storm.  An  interesting  scene  is  now  about  to 
open — for  not  only  the  British  and  American  armies 
from  the  neighbouring  heights,  are  eagerly  looking 
«n  ;  but  all  the  surrounding  country,  timely  alarmed, 
«ire  running  together,  in  terror,  to  behold  the  coming 
£ght.  Among  the  crowding  spectators  are  seen  thou 
sands  of  tender  females,  with  panting  bosoms  and 
watery  eyes,  fixed  upon  the  fields  below,  anxiously 
waiting  the  fute  of  their  Brothers,  Fathers,  and  hus 
bands.  After  a  hurried  moment  spent  in  forming, 
the  British  troops  began  to  advance  in  heavy  columns, 
with  all  the  martial  pomp  of  flying  colours  and  rattling 
drums.  At  the  same  time,  by  order  of  Gage,  the 
beautiful  port  of  Charlestown,  of  300  fine  buildings, 
with  a  tall  steepled  church,  was  wrapped  in  flames, 
roaring  like  distant  thunder,  and  tossed  on  eddying 
winds  in  fiery  billows  to  the  clouds — while  far  and 
wide,  the  adjoining  plains  are  covered  \\ith  British 
•oldiers  in  crimson  regimentals  and  shining  arms, 
moving  on  the  attack  with  incessant  discharges  of 
muskets  and  great  guns.  Close,  on  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  appears  the  little  fort,  dimly  seen  through  smoke, 
and  waved  over  by  one  solitary  flag,  and  very  unlike 
to  sti  nd  the  shock  of  so  powerful  an  armnment.  But 
the  Americans  are  all  wound  up  to  the  height  of  the 
enthusiasm  of  Liberty:  and,  lying  close  behind  their 
works,  v  ith  fowling  pieces  loaded  with  ball  and  buck- 
thot, 'wait  impatiently  for  the  approaching  eneiry. 
Their  brave  countrymen,  Putnam  and  Warren,  are 
in  the  fort,  constantly  reminding  them  of  that  glorious 
inheritance,  Liberty,  which  they  received  from  their 
gallant  fathers,  and  now  owe  to  their  own  dear  chil 
dren.—44  Donjf  throw  mvay  a  single  shot^  my  bruvc 
rr//07«  A,"  said  old  Putnam.  "  DoiCt  throiv  away  (tain- 


T6  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

gle  shot ;  but  take  g00d  aim  :  nor  touch  a  trigger  ^  tiU 
you  can  tee  the  whites  of  their  eyes" 

THIS  steady  reserve  of  fire,  even  after  the  British 
had  come  up  within  pistol-shot,  led  them  to  hope  that 
the  Americans  did  not  mean  to  resht  and  many  of 
their  friends  on  the  heights  had  nearly  given  up  all  for 
lost.  But  as  soon  as  the  enemy  were  advanced  within 
the  fatal  distance  marked,  all  at  once  a  thousand  trig 
gers  were  drawn  :  and  a  sheet  of  fire,  wide  as  the 
whole  front  of  the  breast- work,  bursted  upon  them 
with  most  ruinous  effect.  The  British  instantly  came 
to  a  halt — still  keeping  up  their  fire — but  altogether 
at  random  and  ineffectual,  like  men  in  a  panic.  While 
full  exposed,  within  point-blank  shot,  ranks  on  ranks 
fell  before  the  American  marksmen,  as  the  heavy- 
eared  corn  before  the  devouiing  hail-storm,  when 
with  whirlwind  rage  it  smites  the  trembling  earth, 
and  rushes  on,  smoking  and  roaring  through  the  de 
solated  fields.  The  enemy  still  maintained  their 
ground  like  Britons,  though  all  in  front  was  nothing 
but  one  wide  destructive  flash  ;  and  nought  around 
but  heaps  of  their  shrieking,  dying  comrades.  But  in 
a  few  minutes  the  slaughter  became  so  general,  that 
they  could  stand  it  no  longer,  'nit  broke  and  fled  in  the 
utmost  disorder,  to  the  shore  side  ;  and  some  even 
took  refuge  in  their  boats !  Their  officers  with  some 
difficulty  brought  them  back  to  a  second  charge,  when 
the  Americans  waiting  till  they  had  come  tip  within 
a  few  rods  of  the  fort,  recommenced  their  ftre,  with  a 
mortality  which  broke  and  drove  them  again.  Some 
of  the  (\ricers  attempted  to  bring  them  on  a  third  time; 
but  orlvrs  cried  out,  u  that  it  TW/.V  no  hetter  than 
murder.'"  It  is  probable  they  would  ha  d  v  have 
Triads  another  effort,  had  not  the  generals  Clinton  and 
Burgovne,  spectators  of  their  defeat,  hastened  over 
from  B  >ston  with  fresh  troops  to  their  aid. 

THE  A  nc:ricans,  being  nearly  destitute  of  ammti- 
n'uion,  an:l  attacked  bv  such  superior  force,  were  oh* 
liged  to  retreat,  which  they  diJ  in  tolerable  order,  but 


Battle  of  Bunker's 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  77 

not  till  they  had  given  the  enemy,  as  they  mounted  the 
works,  their  last  cartridges,  and  to  some  of  them  the 
buts  of  their  guns. ..for  want  of  bayonets.  The  Bri 
tish,  'tis  true,  by  such  great  advantage  of  numbers 
and  weapons,  gained  the  day ;  but  sung  no  te  deum* 
To  have  given  1350  men  killed  and  wounded,  for  a 
poor  ditch  of  12  hours  labour,  seemed  to  them  a  bar 
gain  hardly  worth  thanking  God  for. 

AMONG  the  Heroes  whom  this  day  immolated  on 
the  altar  of  Patriotism,  was  Dr.  Joseph  Warren, 
whose  memory  will  be  held  sacred  as  long  as  gratitude 
or  honour  live  among  men.  The  British  lost  Major 
Pitcairn,  author  of  the  murders  at  Lexington  a  few 
weeks  before ! 

DURING  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1775,  Wash 
ington  could  effect  nothing  against  the  British,  but  to 
hold  them  close  confined  in  Boston,  where  the  scurvy 
prevailed,  and  proved  very  fatal.  To  remedy  this 
evil,  immense  quantities  of  live  stock  and  vegetables 
were  shipped  from  Britain — 5,000  fat  oxen ;  14,OOO 
sheep.. .12,000  hogs,  with  22,000  pounds  sterling 
worth  of  sour-crout ! ! !  And  nearly  the  same  amount 
in  hay,  oats  and  beans,  for  a  single  regiment  of  ca 
valry !  !  u  Blesstd are  the^  meek  /"  for  they  shall  save 
a  world  of  expense. 

IN  consequence  of  some  disturbances  this  year,  in 
South-Carolina,  in  favour  of  the  ministry,  Sir  Peter 
Parker  was  dispatched  with  nine  ships  of  war,  and 
a  large  land  force,  commanded  by  Clinton  and  Corn- 
wallis,  to  make  an  attempt  on  Charleston,  the  capi 
tal.  Before  the  ships  could  be  brought  to  pay  their 
respects  to  the  town,  they  must,  it  seems,  pass  a  lit 
tle  fort  on  Sullivan's  Island.  This,  however,  being 
defended  only  by  raw  militia,  was  hardly  looked  on  as 
an  obstacle.  Happily  for  America,  the  command  of 
the  fort  had  been  committed  to  general  Moultrie;  for 
the  chief  in  command,  Gen.  Charles  Lee,  though 
otherwise  brave,  was  ever  in  the  frights  at  the  thought 
of  a  British  man  of  war ;  and  for  a.gc»nera!,  much  too 
free  in  lending  his  fears  to  others.  For,  while  Moul- 
H 


78  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

trie  was  showing  him  the  fort,  and  in  the  language  of 
a  fiery  patriot,  was  boasting  what  handsome  resist 
ance  he  hoped  it  would  make ;  Lee  with  infinite  scorn 
replied,  "  Pshaw !  a  mere  slaughter  house !  a  mere 
slaughter  house  !  a  British  man  of  war  will  knock  it 
about  your  ears  in  half  an  hour  !"  He  even  proposed 
to  abandon  the  fort !  The  courage  of  one  man  saved 
Charleston,  and  perhaps  the  State.  That  fortunate 
man  was  John  Rutledge,  Esq.  governor  of  South- 
Carolina.  He  insisted  that  the  fort  should  be  defend 
ed  to  the  last  extremity.  Moultrie  was  called  in. 
"  Well,  general  Moultrie,"  said  gov.  Rutledge, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  giving  up  the  fort  ?"  Moultrie 
could  scarcely  suppress  his  indignation.  "  No  man^ 
sir,"  said  he  to  Lee,  "  can  have  a  higher  opinion  of 
the  British  ships  and  seamen  than  I  have.  But  there 
are  others  who  love  the  smell  of  gunpowder  as  well  as 
they  do ;  and  give  us  but  plenty  of  powder  and  ball, 
sir,  and  let  them  come  on  as  soon  as  they  please."  His 
courage  was  quickly  put  to  the  test;  for  about  1O 
o'clock,  on  the  28th  of  June,  in  the  glorious  1776, 
sir  Peter  Parker,  with  seven  tall  ships  formed  his 
line,  and  bearing  down  within  point-blank  shot  of  the 
fort,  let  go  his  anchors  and  began  a  tremendous  fire. 
At  every  thundering  blast  he  fondly  hoped  to  see  the 
militia  take  to  the  sands  like  frightened  rats  from  an 
old  barn  on  fire.  But,  widely  different  from  his  hopes, 
the  militia  stood  their  ground,  firm  as  the  Black-jacks 
of  their  land;  and  levelling  their  four-and-twenty 
pounders  with  good  aim  bored  the  old  hearts  of  oak 
through  and  through  at  every  fire.  Their  third  broad 
side  carried  away  the  springs  on  the  cables  of  the  com 
modore's  ship,  which  immediately  swung  around 
right  stern  upon  the  guns  of  the  fort — "  Hurra !  my 
sons  of  thunder,"  was  instantly  the  cry  along  the  Ame 
rican  battery,  "  look  handsomely  to  the  commodore  ! 
now  mv  boys,  for  your  best  respects  to  the  commo 
dore  !"  Little  did  the  commodore  thank  them  for  such 
respects',  for  in  a  short  time  he  had  60  of  his  brave  crew 
lying  lifeless  on  his  decks,  and  his  cockpit  stowed  with 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  79 

the  wounded.  At  one  period  of  the  action,  the  quar 
ter-deck  was  cleared  of  every  soul,  except  Sir  Peter 
himself.  Nor  was  he  entirely  excused  :  for  an  ho 
nest  cannon-ball,  by  v/ay  of  broad  hint  that  it  was  out 
of  character  for  a  Briton  to  fight  against  liberty,  rude 
ly  snatched  away  the  bag  of  his  silk  breeches.  Thus 
Sir  Peter  had  the  honour  to  be  the  first,  and  I  believe 
the  only  Sans  Culotte  ever  heard  of  in  American  na 
tural  history  ! ! 

THE  Americans  stood  the  fire  like  SALAMANDERS  ; 
or  the  neighbouring  shores  were  lined  with  thousands 
of  their  dearest  relatives,  anxiously  looking  on  !  the 
British  tars,  poor  fellows  !  had  no  sisters,  mothers, 
nor  wives,  spectators  of  their  strife  ;  but  fought,  not 
withstanding,  with  their  wonted  heroism.  Long  ac 
customed  to  mastery  in  battles  with  the  French,  and 
greatly  out-numbering  the  fort  both  in  men  and  guns, 
they  counted  on  certain  victory ;  and  tho'  dreadfully 
handled,  scorned  to  yield.  Immense  were  the  ex 
ertions  on  both  sides  ;  and  while  the  powder  of  the 
fort  lasted,  the  conflict  was  awfully  grand — From 
ships  to  fort,  and  from  fort  to  ships  again,  all  below 
seemed  one  stream  of  solid  fire  ;  all  above,  0ne  vast 
mountain  of  smoke  darkening  the  day,  while  uninter- 
tnitted  bursts  of  thunder  deafened  all  ears,  and  far 
around  shook  both  land  and  sea. 

THE  heroes  in  the  fort  won  immortal  honour.  One 
brave  fellow,  a  Serjeant  Jasper,  observing  the  flag 
staff  shot  away,  jumped  down  from  the  fort  rn  the 
beach,  in  the  hottest  fury  of  the  battle,  and  snatching 
up  the  flag,  returned  it  to  its  place,  streaming  defi 
ance,  with  a — "  Hurra,  my  boys,  liberty  and  America 
for  ever."  Governor  Ilutledge  rewarded  him  with  a 
sword.  Another  Serjeant,  McDonald,  while  roaring 
away  with  his  24  pounder,  was  terribly  shuttered  by  a 
cannon  ball.  When  about  to  expire,  he  lifted  up  his 
dying  eyes  and  said — "  My  brave  countrymen,  I  die  ; 
but  don't  let  the  cause  of  Liberty  die  with  me."  Now 
louder  and  louder  still,  peal  on  peal,  the  American 
thunder  burst  forth  with  earth-trembling  crashes  :  and 
the  British  ships,  after  a  long  and  gallant  struggles 


80  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

hauled  off  with  a  good  fortnight's  worth  of  work  for 
surgeons,  carpenters  and  riggers. 

SIR  Peter  was  so  dumb-founded  by  this  drubbing, 
that  it  took  him  full  eight-and-forty  hours  to  recover 
his  stomach  for  his  beef  and  pudding.  So  wonderful 
ly  had  it  lethim-down,  that  even  his  black  pilots  grew 
impudent  upon  him.  For  as  he  was  going  out  over 
the  bar,  he  called  to  Cudjo  (a  black  fellow,  a  pilot 
who  was  sounding  the  depth  of  the  water) u  Cud 
jo  !  (says  he)  what  water  have  you  got.  there  ?" 

u  WHAT  water,  massa  ?  what  water?  why  salt  wa 
ter,  be  sure  sir  !...sea  water  ahvay  salt  water,  an't  he, 
massa?" 

u  You  black  rascal,  I  knew  it  was  salt  water.  I  only 
wanted  to  know  how  much  water  you  have  there  ?" 

"  How  much  water  here,  massa  ?  how  much  water 
here  !  God  bless  me,  massa  !  where  I  going  get  quart 
pot  for  measure  him  ?" 

THIS  was  right  down  impudence;  and  Cudjo  richly 
deserved  a  rope's  end  for  it:  but  Sir  Peter,  a  good 
natured  man,  was  so  tickled  with  the  idea  of  measur 
ing  the  Atlantic  ocean  with  a  quart  pot,  that  he  broke 
into  a  hearty  laugh,  and  ordered  Cudjo  a  stiff  drink 
of  grog. 

'TWAS  the  celebrated  Samuel  Chase,  the  Demos 
thenes  of  Maryland,  who  first  taught  the  startled 
vaults  of  Congress  hall  to  re-echo  the  n-ame  of  Inde 
pendence.  After  enumerating  many  a  glaring  instance 
of  ministerial  violation  of  American  rights — on  all  of 
which  George  the  Third,  the  expected  father  of  his 
people,  had  looked  with  a  most  unfatherly  calmness — 
his  countenance  became  like  the  dark  stormy  cloud 
edg'd  with  lightning — then  swinging  his  arm  in  the 
air,  with  a  tremendous  stamp  and  voice  of  thunder, 

that  made  the  hollow  dome  resound,  he  swore > 

a  mighty  oath,  u  that  he  owed  no  allegiance  to  the  king 
of  England!" 

MANY  in  Congress  trembled  at  hearing  such  a 
speech  ;  and,  on  me  ition  of  Independence,  felt  the 
pa.  g  xv.^kh  nature  feels  when  soul  and  body  are 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  81 

parting.  But  fearing  that  "  true  friendship  could  ne 
ver  grow  again,  where  wounds  of  deadly  hate  haa 
pierced  so  deep"  they  at  length  resolved  to  part.  The 
gentlemen  appointed  by  Congress  to  frame  the  de 
claration  of  Independence,  were  THOMAS  JEFFERSON, 
JOHN  ADAMS,  Dr.  FRANKLIN,  R.  SHERMAN  and  R. 
R.  LIVINGSTON.  On  hearing  their  nomination  to  a 
task  so  high  and  arduous,  they  met ;  and  after  some 
conversation  on  the  subject,  parted,  under  the  agree 
ment  that  each  of  their  number  should  draft  his  own 
declaration,  and  read  it  next  day,  in  rotation  to  the 
rest.  At  the  fixed  hour  next  day,  they  met — but 
"  who  should  read  first"  was  the  question.  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  fixed  on  ;  and,  after  much  importunity, 
consented  to  read  his  form,  which  had  the  honour  to 
give  such  complete  satisfaction,  that  none  other  was 
read. 

A  FEW  days  after  this,  Lord  Howe  came  upon  the 
coast  with  a  forest  of  men  of  war  and  transports,  sha 
ding  far  and  wide  the  frightened  ocean,  and  bearing 
nearly  40,000  men,  British,  Hessians,  and  Waldeck- 
ers.  Supposing  that  this  had  intimidated  the  Ameri 
can  commander,  Lord  Howe  wrote  a  letter  to  him, 
directed — u  George  Washington,  Esq"  This  the  ge 
neral  refused  to  receive  !  looking  on  it  as  an  insult  to 
Congress  under  whom  he  had  the  honour  to  bear  the 
commission  of  Commander  in  Chief,  and  should  have 
been  addressed  as  such.  General  Howe  then  sent  an 
officer  (Colonel  Patterson)  to  converse  with  him  on 
the  subject  of  reconciliation — Having  heard  what  he 
had  to  say,  Washington  replied,  "  by  what  has  yet 
appeared,  sir,  you  have  no  power  but  to  grant  pardons. 
But  we,  -who  have  committed  no  faults,  want  no  par 
dons  ;  for  we  are  only  fghtingfor  our  rights  as  the 
descendants  of  Englishmen" 

THE  unfortunate  defeat  of  Long-Island  now  took 

place  on  August  28th,  which,  though  the  hottest  day 

in  the  year,  had  like  to  have  been  the  freezing  point 

in  the  American  affairs.  For  on  this  day,  the  British 

H  2 


82  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

with  an  infinite  superiority  of  force,  after  having 
defeated  the  Americans  with  great  loss,  were  invest 
ing  the  slender  remains  of  their  army ;  and  had  ac 
tually  bioke  ground  within  six  hundred  yards  of  the 
little  redoubt  vhat  feebly  covered  their  front.  Soon 
as  it  was  dark,  Washington  ordered  the  troops  to 
convey  th~ir  baggage  and  artillery  to  the  water  side, 
whence  it  was  transported  over  a  broad  ferry  all  night 
long,  with  amazing  silence  and  order.  Providentially 
a  thick  fog  continued  next  morning  till  ten  o'clock  ; 
when  that  passed  away,  and  the  sun  broke  out,  the 
British  were  equally  surprised  and  enraged  to  see  the 
rear  guard  with  the  last  of  the  baggage  in  their  boats, 
and  out  of  all  danger. 

LORD  Howe,  supposing  that  such  a  run  of  misfor 
tunes  must  have  put  congress  into  a  good  humour  to 
think  about  peace,  signified  a  willingness  to  have  a 
grand  talk  on  the  subject.  Congress  sent  Dr.  Frank 
lin,  Mr.  Adams,  and  Mr.  Rutledge,  each  with  his 
belt  of  wampum.  But  finding  that  his  lordship  was 
still  harping  on  the  old  string,  pardons!  pardons  ! 
they  very  soon  closed  the  conference. 

TOWARDS  the  close  of  this  trying  campaign,  it  is 
a  fact,  that  Washington  had  not  300O  men  ;  and  even 
these  were  so  destitute  of  necessaries,  that  nothing 
but  their  love  and  veneration  for  him  kept  them  to 
gether.  And  with  this  handful  he  had  to  oppose  a 
victorious  army,  of  nearly  forty  thousand  veterans  !  ! 
But  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Hosts,  was  with  him  :  and 
oft'  times,  in  the  ear  of  the  slumbering  hero,Afis  voice 
was  heard,  "fear  not;  for  lamivith  thee.  6e  not  dis 
mayed ;  for  I  am  thy  God.1 — Hence  under  all  the  dis 
heartening  circumstances  of  this  campaign,  Washing 
ton  not  only  kept  up  his  own  spirits,  but  cheered  those 
of  his  drooping  comrades.  Hearing  his  officers  one 
day  talk  about  the  gloominess  of  the  American  affairs 
he  humorously  clasped  his  neck  with  his  hands,  and 
said  with  a  smile,  u  I  really  cannot  believe  yet,  that 
mtf  neck  was  ever  made  for  a  halter  ! 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  83 

FOR  four  months,  during  the  summer  and  fall  of 
1776,  the  Americans  were  obliged  to  retreat  before 
the  enemy,  who  completely  over-ran  the  Jerseys,  fill 
ing  every  town  and  hamlet  with  their  victorious  troops 
— During  their  pursuit  through  the  Jerseys,  the  be 
haviour  of  the  Hessians  towards  the  country  people 
was  barbarous  in  the  extreme.  To  make  them  fight 
the  better,  it  seems  they  had  been  told  that  the  Ame 
ricans,  against  whom  they  were  warring,  were  not 
(like  the  Europeans)  Christians  and  gentlemen,  but 
mere  savages,  a  race  of  Cannibals,  who  would  not  on 
ly  tomahawk  a  poor  Hessian,  and  haul  off  his  hide  for 
a  druris  head,  but  would  just  as  lieve  barbacue  and 
eat  him  as  they  would  a  pig.  "  Vat !  Vat  /"  cried 
the  Waldeckers,  with  eyes  staring  wild  and  big  as 
billiard  balls,  "  Vat !  eat  Hessian  man  up  like  vun 
hog  !  Oh  mine  God  and  Vader  !  vot  peoples  ever  bin 
heard  of  eat  Christian  man  before  !  Vy  !  shure,  des 
Mericans  must  be  de  deble." 

Tins  was  Hessian  logic :  and  it  inspired  them  with 
the  utmost  abhorrence  of  the  Americans,  to  whom 
they  thought  the  worst  treatment  much  too  good — 
they  burnt  houses — destroyed  furniture — killed  the 
stock — abused  the  -women  !  and  spread  consternation 
and  ruin  along  all  their  march. 

To  save  their  families  from  such  horrid  tragedies, 
the  Americans  flocked  in  by  thousands  to  general 
Howe,  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  And  the  best 
judges  were  of  opinion,  that  this  alarming  apostacy 
would  soon  become  general  throughout  the  two  great 
states  of  Pennsylvania  and  New-Jersey]  And  indeed 
no  wonder ;  for  to  most  people  it  appeared  that  the 
cause  of  liberty  was  a  gone  cause*  But,  still  firm  as 
the  iron  rudder-bands  that  maintain  the  course  of  the 
ship  in  her  trembling  flight  over  raging  seas,  so  firm 
ly  did  Washington  cleave  to  his  countrymen,  and  co 
ver  their  retreat. 

THEY  had  been  obliged  to  retreat  from  Long- 
Island  to  New-York,  from  New-York,  over  the  Hud 
son,  to  New-Jersev,  and  now  over  the  Delaware,  to 


84  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Pennsylvania.  "  My  God  !  general  Washington,  how 
44  long  shall  we  retreat  ?"  said  general  Reed,  u  where 
44  shall  we  stop  ?"  "  Why  sir,"  replied  Washington, 
44  if  we  can  do  no  better,  we'll  retreat  over  every  ri- 
41  ver  in  America  ;  and  last  of  all  over  the  mountains, 
4<  whence  we  shall  never  lack  opportunities  to  annoy, 
44  and  finally,  I  hope,  to  expel  the  enemies  of  our 
44  country." 

BUT,  God  be  thanked,  our  toils  and  trials  were  not 
to  be  pushed  to  such  sad  extremities  :  for  general 
Howe,  having  driven  the  Americans  to  the  western 
side  of  the  Delaware,  stationed  4000  men  in  Trenton, 
Bordentown,  and  Burlington,  on  its  eastern  bank;  and 
then  returned  with  the  main  army  to  eat  their  winter 
puddings  in  Brunswick  and  New- York.  Here,  Wash 
ington,  with  joy,  first  discovered  an  opportunity  to 
make  a  blow.  Not  doubting,  but  that  such  a  long 
run  of  success  had  taught  the  enemy  to  think  very 
highly  of  themselves,  and  as  meanly  of  the  Americans; 
and  suspecting,  too,  that  at  Christmas,  which  was 
close  at  hand,  instead  of  watching  and  praying  like 
good  Christians,  they  would,  very  likely,  be  drinking 
and  hopping  like- fools,  he  determined  then  and  there 
if  possible  to  break  up  their  winter  quarters.  To  this 
end  he  broke  his  little  remnant  of  an  army  into  three 
divisions  ;  two  of  which  he  committed  to  generals 
Ewing  and  Cadwallader  to  attack  at  Bordentown  and 
Burlington.  The  third  he  meant  to  lead  in  person  to 
the  heavier  charge  on  Trenton.  Every  thing  being 
in  readiness  by  Christmas  night,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark, 
they  struck  their  tents,  and  moved  off  in  high  spirits, 
once  more  to  try  their  fortune  against  an  enemy  long 
victorious.  But  alas  !  the  enthusiasm  of  the  gallant 
Cadwallader  and  Ewing  was  soon  arrested  ;  for  on 
arriving  at  the  river,  they  found  it  so  filled  with 
ice,  as  to  preclude  all  possibility  of  crossing. — 
Thus,  to  their  inexpressible  grief,  was  blasted  the 
ardent  wish  to  aid  their  beloved  chief  in  this 
his  last  bold  attempt  to  save  America.  Tgnorant 
of  the  failure  of  two-thirds  of  his  plan,  Washington 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  85 

and  his  little  forlorn  hope,  pressed  on  through  the 
darksome  night,  pelted  by  an  incessant  storm  of  hail 
and  snow.  On  approaching  the  river,  nine  mi  es  a 
Love  Trenton,  they  heard  the  unwe'come  roar  of  ice, 
loud  crashing  along  the  angry  flood.  But  the  object 
before  them  was  too  vast  to  allow  one  thought  about 
difficulties.  The  troops  were  instantly  embarked, 
and  after  five  hours  of  infinite  toil  and  danger,  land 
ed,  some  of  them  frost-bitten,  on  the  same  shores 
with  the  enemy.  Forming  the  line,  they  renewed 
their  march.  Pah,  and  slowly  moving  a]ong  the 
neighbouring  hills  was  seen,  (by  Fancy's  eye)  the 
weeping  GENIUS  OF  LIBERTY.  Driven  from  the 
rest  of  the  world,  she  had  fled  to  the  wild  woods  of 

America,    as  to  an  assured   asylum  of  rest. 

Here  she  fondly  hoped,  through  long  unfailing  time, 
to  see  her  children  pursuing  their  cheerful  toils,  un- 
starvedand  uncrushed  by  the  INHUMAN  FEW.  But 
alas !  the  inhuman  few,  with  fleets  and  armies,  had 
pursued  her  flight !  Her  sons  had  gathered  around 
her,  but  they  had  failed — some,  on  their  bloody  beds  ; 
others  dispersed  ;  all  desponding.  One  little  band  alone 
remained!  and,  now,  resolved  to  defer.d  her  or  perish, 
were  in  rapid  march  to  face  her  foes.  Paleand  in  tears, 
with  eyes  often  lifted  to  Heaven,  she  moved  along 
with  her  children  to  witness  perhaps  the  last  conflict. 
THE  Sun  had  just  tipt  with  gold  the  adjacent  hills, 
when  snowy  Trenton,  with  the  wide-tented  fields  of 
the  foe,  hove  in  sight.  To  the  young  in  arms  this  was 
an  awful  scene  :  and  Nature  called  a  short-lived  ter 
ror  to  their  hearts.  But  not  unseen  of  Washington 
was  their  fear.  He  marked  the  sudden  paleness  of 
their  cheeks,  when  first  they  beheld  the  enemy,  and 
quick,  with  half-stifled  sighs,  turned  on  him  their 
wistful  "ooks.  As  the  big  lion  of  Zara,  calling  his 
brindled  sons  to  battle  against  the  mighty  rhinoceros 
if  he  mark  their  falling  manes,  and  sees  them  crouch 
ing  to  his  side,  instantly  puts  on  all  bis  terrors — his 
eyes  roll  in  blood — he  shakes  the  forest  with  the 


86  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

deepening  roar,  till,  kindled  by  their  fathers  fire,  the 
maddening  cubs  swell  with  answering  rage,  and 
spring  undaunted  on  the  monster.  Thus  stately  and 
terrible  rode  ColumMs  first  and  greatest  son,  along 
the  front  of  his  halting  troops.  The  eager  wish  for 
battle  flushed  over  his  burning  face,  as,  rising  on  his 
stirrups,  he  waved  his  sword  towards  the  hostile 
camp,  and  exclaimed,  "  There  !  my  brave  friends  ! 
there  are  the  enemies  of  your  country  /  and  now,  all 
I  ask  of  you,  is,  just  to  remember  "what  you  are  about 
tofghtfor.  March!"  His  looks  and  voice  rekindled 
all  their  fire,  and  drove  them  undaunted  to  the 
charge.  The  enemy  saw  their  danger  when  it  was 
too  late  !  but,  as  if  resolved  by  taxing  their  courage, 
to  pay  for  their  carelessness,  they  roused  the  thunder 
of  their  drums,  and  flew  to  arms.  But  before  they 
could  form,  the  Americans,  led  on  by  Washington, 
advanced  upon  them  in  a  stream  of  lightning,  which 
soon  decided  the  contest.  By  the  musket  of  the  in 
trepid  captain  (now  general)  Frelinghuysen,  of  New- 
Jersey,  fell  Col.  Rahl,  a  brave  German  who  com 
manded  the  enemy.  The  ghosts  of  forty  of  his  coun 
trymen  accompanied  him  ;  and  very  nearly  one 
thousand  were  made  prisoners.  Five  hundred 
British  horse  effected  their  escape  to  Bordenton. 
Could  Ewing  and  Cadwallader  have  crossed  the 
river,  agreeably  to  Washington's  p'an,  the  enemy's 
whole  line  of  cantonments  would  have  bc^n  com 
pletely  swept !  ! 

To  rouse  his  desponding  countrymen  Washing 
ton  immediately  marched  down  to  Philadelphia,  and 
made  triumphal  entry  with  his  prisoners,  preceded 
by  their  cannon  and  colours,  and  wagons,  bristling 
with  muskets  and  bayonets.  The  poor  tories  could 
scarcely  believe  their  own  eyes.  Many  of  the  whigs 
wept  for  joy. 

To  remove  from  the  minds  of  the  Hessians,  their 
ill-grounded  dread  of  the  Americans,  Washington 
took  great  care,  from  the  moment  they  fell  into  his 
hands,  to  have  them  treated  with  utmost  tender- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  87 

ness  and  generosity.  He  contrived  that  the  wealthy 
Dutch  farmers  should  come  in  from  the  country  and 
converse  with  them.  They  seemed  very  agreeably 
surprised  at  such  friendly  attentions.  The  Dutchmen 
at  length  proposed  to  them  to  quit  the  British  service 

and  become  farmers At  this  the  Hessians  paused 

a  little,  and  said  someihing  about  parting  with  their 
country. 

u  Tour  country!"  said  the  farmers, "Poor  fellows! 
44  where  is  your  country  ?  You  have  no  country.  To 
44  support  his  pomps  and  pleasures  your  prince  has 
44  torn  you  from  your  country,  and  for  30/.  a-head 
41  sold  you  like  slaves  to  fight  against  us,  who  never 
41  troubled  you.  Then  leave  the  vile  employment  and 
44  come  live  with  us.  Our  lands  are  rich.  Come  help 
44  us  to  cultivate  them.  Our  tables  are  covered  with 
44  fat  meats,  and  with  milk  and  honey.  Come  sit 
44  down  and  eat  with  us  like  brothers.  Ourdaughters 
44  are  young  and  beautiful  and  good.  Then  shew 
44  yourselves  worthy,  and  you  shall  have  our  daugh- 
44  ters  :  and  we  will  give  you  of  our  lands  and  cattle, 
44  that  you  may  work,  and  become  rich  and  happy  as 
44  we  are.  You  were  told  that  General  Washington 
44  and  the  Americans  were  savages  and  would  de- 
14  vour  you  !  But  from  the  moment  you  threw  down 
*your  arms,  have  they  not  been  as  kind  to  you  as 
*  you  had  any  right  to  expect  ?" 

"  O  YES  !"  cried  they,"  and  a  thousand  times  more 
44  kind  than  we  deserved.  We  were  told  the  Ameri- 
44  cans  would  show  us  no  pity,  and  so  we  were  cruel 
44  to  them.  But  we  are  sorry  for  it  now,  since  they 
44  have  been  so  good  to  us :  and  now  we  love  the 
44  Americans,  and  will  never  fight  against  them  any 
44  more !" 

SUCH  was  the  effect  of  Washington's  policy ;  the 
divine  policy  of  doing  good  for  evil.  It  melted  down 
his  iron  enemies  into  golden  friends.  It  caused  the 
Hessian  soldiers  to  join  with  the  American  farmers! 
....not  only  so,  but  to  write  such  letters  to  their  coun- 


88  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

try  men,  that  they  were  constantly  breaking  loose 
from  the  British  to  run  over  to  the  Americans.. ..in 
somuch  that  in  a  little  time  the  British  would  hard 
ly  trust  a  Hessian  to  stand  sentinel ! 

THOUGH  this  victory  was  gained  on  the  26th  of 
December,  yet  we  find  Washington  again,  on  the  1st 
of  January,  across  the  angry  Delaware,  with  his 
country's  flag  bold  waving  over  the  heights  of  Tren 
ton.  Lord  Cornwallis  advanced  in  great  force  to 
attack  him.  The  Americans  retreated  through  the 
town,  and  crossing  the  Sanpink  (a  creek  that  runs 
along  its  eastern  sidr)  planted  their  cannon  near  the 
ford,  to  defend  its  passage.  The  British  army  fol 
lowing,  close  in  their  rear,  entered  the  town  about  4 
o'clock ;  and  a  heavy  cannonade  commenced  between 
the  two  armies,  which  were  separated  only  by  the 
Sanpink  and  its  narrow  vailey.  "  Now,  sir !"  said 
sir  VV  illiam  Erskine  to  Cornwallis,  <k  now  is  the 
time  to  make  sure  of  Washington." 

"  OH  NO  !"  replied  Cornwallis,  u  our  troops  have 
u  marched  a  good  way  to  day  and  are  tired.  And  the 
u  old  fox  can't  make  his  escape  ;  for,  with  the  help  of 
"  the  Delaware  now  filled  up  with  ice,  we  have  com- 
u  plet  ly  surrounded  him.  To-morrow  morning, 
"  fresh  and  fasting,  we'll  fall  upon  him,  and  take 
Ci  him  and  his  ragamuffins  all  at  once  !" 

u  AH  !  my  Lord!"  returned  sir  William,  kt  if 
"  Washington  be  the  soldier  that  I  fear  he  ?*,  you'll 
u  not  see  him  there  tomorrow  miming  /'* 

NIGHT  coming  on,  the  artillery  ceased  to  roar  ; 
and  .ighting  up  their  firt  s,  both  armies  proceeded  to 
supper  and  to  sleep.  About  midnight,  having  re 
newed  alt  the  fires,  Washington  put  his  little  army 
in  motion,  and  passing  along  the  enemy's  rear, 
hasted  to  surprise  a  large  body  of  their  troops  at 
Princeton.  Soon  as  it  was  day,  Cornwallis  was 
grt-aty  mortified  to  find  there  was  no  American  ar 
my  on  the  banks  of  the  Sanpink.  u  That's  exactly 
-what  I  feared"  said  sir  William.  Just  as  they  were 
in  deep  thought  on  the  matter,  they  heard  the  roar 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  89 

of  Washington's  cannon  at  Princeton.  "  There" 
continued  sir  William,  "  There  is  Washington  now, 
cutting-  up  our  troops"  And  so  it  was  ;  for  on  arriv 
ing  at  Princeton,  about  sun-rise,  Washington  met 
three  British  regiments,  who  had  just  struck  their 
tents,  and  were  coming  on  in  high  spirits  to  attack 
him  at  Trenton.  In  a  moment,  both  parties  attacked 
like  heroes.  At  the  first  onset  the  Americans  gave 
way  ;  but  sensible  that  all  was  at  stake,  Washington 
snatched  a  standard,  and  advancing  on  the  enemy, 
called  to  his  countrymen  to  follow  :  his  countrymen 
heard,  and  rushed  on  to  the  charge.  Then  flash  and 
clash  went  the 'muskets  and  bayonets. — Here  the 
servants  of  George,  and  there  the  sons  of  liberty, 
wrapped  in  clouds  and  flames,  and  inflicting  mutual 
wounds. 

*l  GOD  save  the  king  !"  the  British  heroes  cry'd, 
u  And  God  for  Washington  !"  Columbia's  sons 

reply'd. 

THE  name  of  Washington  imparted  its  usual  ani 
mation  to  his  troops.  The  enemy  gave  way  in  all 
quarters,  and  were  pursued  four  miles.  The  victors 
returned  with  400  prisoners ;  the  bayonet  had  stopped 
1 20  on  the  field.  But  they  fell  not  alone.  The  gallant 
Mercer,  and  sixty  three  of  his  brave  countrymen 
sleep  with  them.  But  the  strife  of  the  heroes  was 
but  for  a  moment;  and  they  have  forgotten  their 
wounds.  Together  now,  they  feast  in  Paradise,  and 
when  meet  their  eyes  of  love,  their  joys  are  not  dash 
ed  by  the  remembrance  of  the  past. 

THE  British  officers  gave  Washington  full  credit 
for  such  fine  strokes  of  generalship,  and  began  to 
look  thoughtful  whenever  his  name  was  mentioned. 
THE-  enemy  on  the  15th  of  January  drew  in  all 
their  forces  to  winter-quarters  at  Brunswick,  where 
Washington  continued  to  thin  their  numbers  by  cut 
ting  off  their  foraging  parties  ;  so  that  every  load  of 
hay,  or  dish  of  turnips  they  got,  was  at  the  price  of 
l^bod.  , 

I 


90  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

THUS  gloriously,  in  ten  days,  was  turned  the  tide 
of  victory  in  favour  of  America,  by  him  whom  Hea 
ven,  in  mercy  not  to  America  alone,  but  to  Britain, 
and  to  the  world,  had  raised  up  to  found  here  a  wide 
empire  of  liberty  and  virtue.  The  character  of  Wash 
ington  was  exalted  to  the  highest  pitch,  even  through 
out  Europe,  where  he  was  generally  styled  the  Ame 
rican  Fabius,  from  the  famous  Roman  general  of 
that  name,  who  opposed  Hannibal  with  success.  A 
distinction  to  which  he  was  justly  entitled,  from  the 
invincible  firmness  with  which  he  rejected  every 
finesse  of  the  British  generals  ;  as  also,  that  admira 
ble  judgment  with  which  he  suited  the  defence  of  the 
nation  to  the  genius  and  abilities  of  the  people,  and  to 
the  natural  advantages  of  the  country,  thereby  not 
allowing  the  enemy  to  profit  by  their  great  superiori 
ty  of  numbers,  discipline,  and  artillery,  and  constant 
ly  cutting  them  off  by  skirmishes  and  surprise. 

THE  ministerial  plan  for  1777,  was  to  reduce  the 
Americans,  by  intercepting  all  communication  be 
tween  the  northern  and  southern  states  !  To  effect 
this  object  General  Howe,  with  20  thousand  men, 
was  to  go  round  from  New- York  to  the  Head  of  Elk, 
and  thence  march  on,  due  north,  through  Philadel 
phia  ;  while  General  Burgoyne,  with  10,000  men, 
setting  out  from  Canada,  was  to  pass  down  the  lakes, 
and  thence  due  south  to  meet  his  colleague  Howe  -9 
the  straight  line,  formed  by  the  junction  of  these  two 
gentlemen,  was  to  possess  such  virtues,  that  it  was 
supposed  no  American  could  be  found  hardy  enough 
to  set  foot  over  it !  ! 

ACCORDINGLY,  July  23,  General  Howe  left  Sandy- 
Hook;  sailed  up  the  Chesapeake;  landed  at  the 
mouth  of  Elk-River;  and  with  but  little  interruption, 
except  at  Brandywine,  marched  on  to  Philadelphia. 
Into  that  elegant  city,  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1777,  he  entered  in  triumph  ;  fondly  supposing,  that, 
in  America,  as  in  Europe,  the  capture  of  the  city  was 
equivalent  to  the  reduction  of  the  country.  But  io? 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  91 

stead  of  finding  himself  master  of  this  great  conti 
nent,  whose  rattle-snakes  alone  in  the  hand  of  heaven, 
could  scourge  his  presumption  ;  it  was  with  no  small 
difficulty  he  could  keep  possession  of  the  little  village 
of  Germanto  wn.  For,  on  the  morning  of  the  4th  of 
October,  Washington  made  an  attack  on  him  with 
such  judgment  and  fury,  that  his  troops  gave  way  in 
every  quarter.  '<  The  tumult,  disorder  and  despair  in 
the  British  army,  says  Washington, -were  unparallel 
ed"  But:  in  the  very  moment  of  the  most  decisive 
and  glorious  victory,  when  some  of  the  provincial 
regimento  had  more  prisoners  than  men,  the  Ame 
ricans,  through  the  mistake  of  an  officer,  who  had 
drank  too  freely,  began  to  retreat !  !  Washington's 
grief  and  mortification  were  inexpressible, 

BUT  while  he  was  annoying  the  enemy  by  land, 
he  did  not  lose  sight  of  their  fleet,  which  was  now 
forcing  its  way  up  the  Delaware,  to  keep  open  to  the 
army  a  channel  of  supplies.  They  arrived,  without 
molestation,  within  8  miles  of  Philadelphia,  at  a 
marsh  called  Mud-Island.  On  this  poor  harmless 
spot,  the  fittest,  however,  that  nature  in  this  peaceful 
land  of  Friends  could  furnish,  Washington  ordered 
a  fort  to  be  thrown  up,  the  command  of  which,  with 
230  men,  he  assigned  to  lieutenant-colonel  Samuel 
Smith.  On  the  eastern  or  Jersey  side  of  the  river,  at 
a  place  called  Red-Bank,  he  ordered  a  strong  re 
doubt,  the  command  of  which,  with  250  men,  was 
given  to  colonel  Greene.  These,  with  some  chevaux- 
de-frise  sunk  in  the  river,  and  a  few  gallies,  formed 
all  the  barrier  that  Washington  could  present  against 
the  British  navy.  The  strength  of  this  barrier  was 
soon  put  to  a  fiery  trial.  Great  preparations  were 
made  to  attack  the  Americans,  at  the  same  instant, 
both  by  land  and  water.  Count  Donop,  with  a  host 
of  Hessians,  was  sent  over  to  be  in  readiness  to  at 
tack  Red- Bank,  while  the  flood-tide,  groaning  under 
the  enormous  weight,  brought  up  the  men  of  war. 
The  morning  was  still,  and  the  heavens  overcast  with 


92  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

sad  clouds,  as  of  nature  sympathizing  with  her  chil 
dren,  and  ready  to  drop  showers  of  celestial  pity  on 
their  strifes.  No  sooner  had  the  ships  floated  up 
within  three  cables  length  of  the  fort,  than  they  began 
a  most  tremendous  cannonade  :  while  cannon-balls 
and  fire-tailed  bombs,  like  comets,  fell  upon  it  thick 
as  hail.  The  gallant  Smith  and  his  myrmidons  stood 
the  shock  to  a  miracle  :  and,  like  men  fighting  under 
he  eye  of  their  Washington,  drove  two-and-thirty 
pounders  through  them  with  such  spirit  and  success, 
that  in  a  little  time,  the  Augusta,  a  heavy  64  gun 
ship,  took  fire,  and  blew  up,  the  horrible  balloon  of 
many  of  the  crew.  Another  ship  called  the  Merlin, 
or  Black-Bird,  soon  got  on  the  wing,  blew  up  like 
wise,  and  went  off  in  thunder  to  join  the  Augusta. 

AT  the  same  moment  Col.  Donop,  with  his  Hes 
sians,  made  a  gallant  attack  on  the  fort  at  Red- Bank. 
After  a  few  well-directed  fires,  Greene  and  his  men 
artfully  retired  from  the  out-works.  The  enemy  now 
supposing  the  day  their  own,  rushed  on  in  vast  num 
bers  along  a  large  opening  in  the  fort,  and  within 
twenty  steps  of  a  masked  battery,  of  18  pounders, 
loaded  with  grape-shot  and  spike-nails.  All  at  once 
Erebus  seemed  to  open  before  their  affrighted  view. 
But  their  pains  and  their  terrors  were  but  for  a  mo 
ment.  Together  down  they  sunk  by  hundreds,  into 
the  sweet  slumbers  of  death,  scarcely  sensible  of  the 
fatal  blow  that  reft  their  lives. 

Heaps  on  heaps  the  slaughter'd  Hessians  lie  : 
Brave  Greene  beholds  them  with  a  tearful  eye. 
Far  now  from  home,  and  from  their  native  shore, 
They  sleep  in «_,  ath,  and  hear  of  wars  no  more. 

POOR  Donop  was  mortally  wounded,  and  taken 
prisoner.  The  attentions  of  the  American  officers, 
and  particularly  the  kind  condolence  of  the  godlike 
Washington,  quite  overcame  him  ;  and  his  last  mo 
ments  were  steeped  in  tears  of  regret,  for  having  left 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON,  93 

his  native  land,  to  fight  a  distant  people  who  ha 
never  injured  him. 

ON  hearing  of  his  mftfortune,  Washington  sent  an 
officer  to  condole  with  him.  The  officer  was  con*- 
ducted  to  his  apartment ;  and  delivered  the  message 
The  wounded  count  appeared  much  affected — a  tear 
swelled  in  his  eye :  and  he  said  to  the  officer,  "  Pre<- 
sent  to  General  Washington  the  thanks  of  an  unfor* 
tunate  brother  soldier ;  tell  him  I  expect  to  risjj^io 
more,  but  if  I  should,  the  first  exertion  of  my  strength 
shall  be,  to  return  to  him  my  thanks  in  person."  The 
officer  sent  was  Colonel  Daniel  Clymer,  of  Berks, 
Pennsylvania*  u  See  here,  Colonel,"  said  the  dying 
count,  "  see  in  me  the  vanity  of  all  human  pride  !  I 
have  shone  in  all  the  courts  of  Europe  ;  and  now  I 
am  dying  here,  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  in  the 
house  of  an  obscure  Quaker !" 

AFTER  six  weeks  of  infinite  fatigue,  with  great 
loss  of  men  and  money,  the  British  forced  a  passage 
large  enough  for  their  provision  ships  to  Philadel* 
phia,  where  general  Howe  and  his  officers  held  their 
balls  this  winter;  while  16  miles  distant,  the  great 
Washington,  well  pleased  with  his  campaign,  retired 
to  winter  quarters  at  Valley  Forge. 

WHILE  such  ill  success  attended  this  part  of  the 
ministerial  plan,  viz.  to  choke  the  colonies  by  a  mili* 
tary  noose,  so  tightly  drawn  from  Chesapeake  to 
Champlain,  as  to  stop  all  circulation  between  the 
northern  and  southern  states  ;  a  worse  fate  frowned 
on  their  attempt  in  the  north.  General  Burgoyne, 
with  10,000  veterans,  besides  a  host  of  Canadians 
and  Indians,  issuing  forth  from  Canada  in  June 
1777,  came  pouring  along  down  the  lakes  like  the 
thundering  Niagara,  with  an  impetuosity  that  swept 
every  thing  before  it.  The  hatchets  of  the  Indians 
were  drunk  with  American  blood.  No  age,  no  sex, 
could  soften  them.  "  The  widow's  wail,  the  virgin's 
shriek,  and  trembling  infant's  cry,"  were  music  in 
their  ears.  In  cold  blood  they  struck  their  cruel 
tomahawks  into  the  defenceless  ncuvt  of  a  M  ss 
I  2 


94  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

M'Rea,  a  beautiful  girl,  who  was  that  very  day  to 
have  been  married  !  Such  adfS  (%f  inhumanity  called 
forth  the  fiercest  indignatioti|jrf*the  Americans,  and 
inspired  that  desperate  resolution  of  wrnch  the  hu 
man  heart  is  capable,  but  which  no  human  force  can 
conquer.  The  New  Englanders,  who  were  nearest  to 
these  infernal  scenes,  turned  out  en  masse*  Washing 
ton  hurried  on  Gates  and  Arnold  with  their  furious 
legions  ;  and  to  these  he  joined  the  immortal  Morgan 
his  dreadful  phalanx,  1000  riflemen,  whose 
ers  were  never  touched  in  vain, but  could  throw 
a  ball  a  hundred  yards  at  a  squirrel's  head,  and  never 
miss. 

THE  first  check  given  to  Burgoyne's  career,  was 
at  Bennington.  Hearing  that  the  Americans  had  laid 
up  large  provisions  in  that  town,  he  detached  a  Colo 
nel  Baum,  with  600  Germans,  to  surprise  it :  and,  at 
the  same  time,  posted  Colonel  Breyman  in  the  neigh 
bourhood,  with  an  equal  number  to  support  him  if 
necessary.  Finding  the  place  too  well  guarded  either 
for  surprise  or  storm,  Baum  fortified  himself  at  a  lit 
tle  distance,  and  sent  back  for  Breyman.  The  Ame 
rican  commander,  the  brave  general  Starke,  sallied 
out,  and  with  great  fury  attacked  Baum's  intrench- 
ments  without  giving  him  time  to  receive  his  rein 
forcements.  At  the  first  onset,  the  Canadians  and 
British  marksmen  took  to  their  heels,  and  left  the 
poor  Germans  in  the  lurch.  After  a  gallant  resist 
ance,  Baum  was  mortally  wounded,  and  his  brave 
countrymen  killed  or  taken  to  a  man.  In  the  mean 
time  Breyman,  totally  ignorant  of  their  catastrophe, 
arrived  at  the  place  of  action,  where,  instead  of  the 
cheering  huzzas  of  joyful  friends,  he  was  saluted,  on 
all  hands,  with  the  deadly  whizzing  of  rifle  bullets. 
After  Deceiving  a  few  close  and  scorching  fires,  the 
Germans  hastily  betook  themselves  to  flight.  The 
neighbouring  woods,  with  night's  sable  curtains,  en 
abled  the  fugitives  to  save  themselves  for  that  time  at 
least.  The  enemy  lost  in  these  two  engagements,  not 
less  than  1000  men,  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  95 

ABOUT  the  same  time  all  their  forts  on  tne  lakes 
were  surprised.  Colonel  St.  Leger  was  defeated  at 
Fort-Stanwix  ;  the  Indians  began  to  desert ;  Arnold 
and  Morgan  were  coming  up  like  mountain-storms : 
and  the  militia  from  all  quarters  were  pouring  in. 
Burgoyne  began  to  be  alarmed,  and  wrote  to  New- 
York  for  aid  ;  but  finding  that  Clinton  could  give  him 
none,  and  that  the  salvation  of  his  army  depended  on 
themselves,  he  gallantly  determined,  on  the  7th  of 
October,  1777,  to  stake  his  all  on  the  issue  of  a  gen 
eral  battle. 

His  army,  in  high  spirits,  was  formed  within  a  mile 
of  the  American  camp.  Burgoyne,  with  the  flower 
of  the  British  troops,  composed  the  centre.  Briga 
dier-general  Frazer  commanded  the  left.  The  Ger 
mans  headed  by  major-generals  Philips  and  Keides- 
del,  and  col.  Breyman  formed  the  right.  With  a  fine 
train  of  artillery,  flying  colours,  and  full  roll  of  mar 
tial  music,  from  wing  to  wing  the  towering  heroes 
moved.  On  the  other  hand,  fired  with  the  love  of 
liberty,  the  Americans  poured  out  by  thousands,  ea 
ger  for  the  glorious  contest.  Their  dear  country's 
flag  waves  over  their  heads.  The  thoughts  of  the 
warriors  are  on  their  children,  and  on  the  chains  now 
forging  for  their  tender  hands.  The  avenging  pas 
sions  rise,  and  the  battle  moves.  Morgan  brought  on 
the  action.  In  a  large  buckwheat  field,  which  lay  be 
tween  the  two  armies,  he  had  concealed  his  famous 
regiment  of  riflemen.  The  enemies,  chiefly  Cana 
dians  and  Indians,  unsuspiciously  advance.  They 
were  suffered  to  come  within  point  b!ank  shot,  when 
they  received  a  general  fire,  which  strewed  the  field 
with  their  dead  bodies.  Morgan  pursued;  but  was 
soon  met  by  a  heavy  reinforcement  from  the  British, 
who  quickly  drove  him,  in  turn.  Arnold  then  moved 
on  to  support  Morgan;  and,  in  a  short  time,  with  nine 
heavy  regiments  was  closely  engaged  with  the  whole 
of  the  British  army,  both  parties  fighting  as  if  each 
was  determined  never  to  yield  :  while  the  incessant 
crash  of  muskets  and  roar  of  artillery  appeared  both 


96  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  sight  and  sound  as  if  two  wrathful  clouds  had  come 
down  on  the  plain,  rushing  together,  in  hideous  bat 
tle,  with  all  their  thunders  and  lightnings.  The 
weight,  however,  of  the  American  fire  was  directed 
against  the  enemy's  centre,  extending  along  the  left 
wing  :  and  though  it  was  some  time  sustained  with 
the  greatest  firmness,  yet  at  length  it  prevailed,  and 
threw  the  British  into  confusion.  But  the  gallant 
Frazer  flying  to  their  assistance,  soon  restored  their 
order  and  renewed  the  fight.  Severely  galled  still  by 
Morgan's  rifles  on  the  flanks,  and  hard  pressed  at  the 
same  time,  in  front  by  Arnold?  they  gave  way  a  se 
cond  time  :  and  a  second  time  Frazer's  presence  re 
vived  their  valour,  and  rekindled  the  battle  in  all  its 
rage. 

HERE  Arnold  did  an  act  unworthy  of  the  glory  of 
the  well  fought  battle.  He  ordered  up  twelve  of  his 
best  riflemen,  and  pointing  to  Frazer,  who  on  horse 
back,  with  brandished  sword>  was  gallantly  anima 
ting  his  men,  he  said  "  Mark  that  officer  ! — Himself 
is  a  host ;  let  me  not  see  him  long." 

Til  E  riflemen  flew  to  their  places,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  the  hero  was  cut  down.  With  him  fell  the 
courage  of  the  left  wing,  who,  being  now  fiercely 
charged,  gave  way,  and  retreated  to  their  camp.  But 
scarcely  had  they  entered  it,  when  the  Americans, 
with  Arnold  at  their  head,  stormed  it  with  inconceiv 
able  fury  ;  rushing  with  trailed  arms  through  a  heavy 
discharge  of  musquetry  and  grape  shot.  The  British 
fought  with  equal  desperation.  For  their  all  was  at 
stake  ;  the  Americans,  like  a  whelming  flood,  were 
bursting  over  their  intrenchments;  and,  hand  to  hand, 
with  arguments  of  bloody  steel,  were  pleading  the 
cause  of  ages  yet  unborn.  Hoarse  as  a  mastiff  of  true 
British  breed, Lord  Balcarras  was  heard  from  rank  to 
rank,  loud- animating  his  troops  ;  while  on.  the  other 
hand,fierce  as  the  hungry  tiger  of  Bengal,  the  impetu 
ous  Arnold  precipitated  his  heroes  on  the  stubborn 
foe.  High  in  air,  the  encountering  banners  blazed  ; 
there  bold  waving  the  lion-painted  standard  of  Bri 
tain  ;  here  the  streaming  pride  of  Columbia's  lovely 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  97 

stripes— while  thick  below,  ten  thousand  eager  war 
riors  close  the  darkening  files,  all  bristled  with 
vengeful  steel.  No  firing  is  heard.  But  shrill  and 
terrible,  from  rank  to  rank,  resounds  the  clash  of 
bayonets — frequent  and  sad  the  groans  of  the  dying. 
Pairs  on  pairs,  Britons  and  Americans,  with  each  his 
bayonet  in  his  brother's  breast,  fall  forward  together 
faint-shrieking  in  death,  and  mingle  their  smoking 
blood. 

MANY  were  the  widows,  many  the  orphans  that 
were  made  that  day.  Long  did  the  daughters  of  Co 
lumbia  mourn  their  fallen  brothers !  and  often  did 
the  lovely  maids  of  Caledonia  roll  their  soft  blue  eyes 
of  sorrow  along  the  sky-bound  sea,  to  meet  the  sails 
of  their  returning  lovers. 

BUT  alas !  their  lovers  shall  return  no  more.  Far 
distant,  on  the  banks  of  the  roaring  Hudson  they  lie, 
pale  and  helpless  on  the  fields  of  death.  Glassy  now 
and  dim  are  those  eyes  which  once  "  beamed  with 
friendship,  or  which  flamed  in  war."  Their  last 
thoughts  are  towards  the  maids  of  their  love :  and 
the  big  tear  glistens  in  their  eye,  as  they  heave  the 
parting  groan. 

THEN  was  seen  the  faded  form  of  Ocean's  Queen, 
far-famed  Britannia,  sitting  alone  and  tearful  on  her 
western  cliffs.  With  downcast  look  her  faithful  lion 
lay  roaring  at  her  feet ;  while  torn  and  scattered  on 
the  rock  were  seen  her  many  trophies  of  ancient 
fame.  Silent,  in  dishevelled  locks,  the  goddess  sat, 
absorbed  in  grief,  when  the  gale  of  the  west  came 
blackening  along  the  wave,  laden  with  the  roar  of 
murderous  battle.  At  once  she  rose — a  livid  horror 
spread  her  cheeks — distraction  glared  on  her  eye 
balls,  hard  strained  towards  the  place  whence  came 
the  groans  of  her  children  !  the  groans  of  her  chil 
dren  fast  sinking  in  a  distant  land.  Thrice  she  essay 
ed  to  curse  the  destroyers  of  her  race.  But  thrice 
she  remembered,  that  they  too  were  her  sons.  Then, 
wild  shrieking  with  a  mother's  anguish,  she  rent  the 


98  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

air  with  her  cries  :  and  the  hated  name  of  NORTH 
resounded  through  all  her  caves. 

BUT  still  in  all  its  rage  the  battle  burned :  and  both 
parties  fought  with  an  obstinacy,  never  exceeded. 
But,  in  that  moment  of  danger  and  of  glory,  the  im 
petuous  Arnold,  who  led  the  Americans,  was  dange 
rously  wounded,  and  forced  to  retire :  and  several 
regiments  of  British  infantry  pouring  in  to  the  assist 
ance  of  their  gallant  comrades,  the  Americans,  after 
many  hard  struggles,  were  finally  repulsed. 

IN  another  quarter,  where  the  strength  of  the  Ger 
mans  fought,  the  Americans,  led  on  by  Morgan,  car 
ried  the  rntrenchments  sword  in  hand.  The  face  of 
Morgan  was  like  the  full  moon  in  a  stormy  night, 
when  she  looks  down  red  and  fiery  on  the  raging 
deep,  amidst  foundering  wrecks  and  cries  of  drown 
ing  seamen;  while  his  voice,  like  thunder  on  the 
hills,  was  heard,  loud-shouting  his  heroes  to  the 
bloody  charge.  The  tall  regiments  of  Hesse  Cassel 
fe  or  fled  before  them;  leaving  their  baggage,  tents 
and  artillery,  in  the  hands  of  the  victors. 

THIS  was  a  bloody  day  to  both  armies  :  but  so  pe 
culiarly  disheartening  to  the  British,  that  they  were 
obliged  to  retreat  that  night  to  Saratoga,  where,  in  a 
few  days,  (on  the  13th  of  October,  1777,)  they  sur 
rendered  to  the  Americans,  under  Gates,  by  whom 
they  were  treated  with  a  generosity  that  astonished 
them.  For,  when  the  British  were  marched  out  to 
lay  down  their  arms,  there  was  not  an  American  to 
be  seen  !  They  had  all  nobly  retired  for  a  moment, 
as  if  unwilling  to  give  the  pain,  even  to  their  ene 
mies,  of  being  spectators  of  so  humiliating  a  scene  ! 
Worthy  countrymen  of  Washington  !  this  deed  of 
yours  shall  outlive  the  stars,  and  the  blest  sun  him 
self,  smiling,  shall  proclaim,  that  in  the  wide  travel 
of  his  beams,  he  never  looked  upon  its  like  before. 

THUS,  gloriously  for  America,  ended  the  campaign 
of  '77.  That  of  '78  began  as  auspiciously.  In  May, 
Silas  Deane  arrived  from  France,  with  the  welcome 
news  of  a  treaty  with  that  powerful  people,  and  a 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  99 

letter  from  Louis  XVI.  to  Congress,  whom  he  styled 
— very  dear  great  friends  and  allies. 

SOON  as  it  was  known  by  the  British  ambassador 
at  Paris,  Lord  Stormont,  that  the  king  of  France  had 
taken  part  with  the  Americans,  he  waited  on  the 
French  minister,  De  Vergennes ;  and  with  great  agi 
tation  mentioned  the  report,  asking  if  it  were  possible 
it  could  be  true. 

"  VERY  possible^  my  Lord"  replied  the  smooth 
Frenchman. 

"  WELL,  I'm  astonished  at  it,  sir,"  continued 
Stormont,  exceedingly  mortified.  "  America,  sir,  is 
"  our  daughter !  and  it  was  extremely  indelicate  of 
u  the  French  king  thus  to  decoy  her  from  our  em- 
"  braces,  and  make  a  w — e  of  her  !" 

"  Why  as  to  that  matter,  my  Lord,"  quoth  Ver 
gennes,  with  the   true    Gallic   shrug,  "there  is  n< 
"  great  harm  done.    For  the  king  of  France  is  ver; 
u  willing  to  marry  your  daughter,  and  make  an  ho- 
u  nest  woman  of  her." 


CHAPTER  X. 

Lord  North,  coming  to  his  senses,  sends  commission 
ers  to  America — Clinton  evacuates  Philadelphia— 
Washington  pursues  him — battle  of  Monmouth—- 
Arnold^s  apostacy — Andre  apprehended — executed 
— his  character. 

THE  news  of  the  total  loss  of  Burgoyne  and  his 
army  soon  reached  Parliament,  where  it  produced  a 
consternation  never  before  known  in  that  house. 
The  Ministry,  utterly  confounded,  could  not  open 
their  lips  ;  while  the  Whig  minority,  with  great  se 
verity,  lashed  their  obstinacy  and  ignorance.  Loi  d 
North,  beginning  now  to  find,  as  the  great  Chatham 
had  foretold,  that "  three  millions  of  Whigs,  -with  arms 


100  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

in  their  hands,  -were  not  to  be  enslaved"  became  very 
anxious  to  conciliate  !  Commissioners  were  sent  over 
with  offers  to  repeal  the  obnoxious  taxes  !  and  also 
with  promises  of  great  favours  which  Lord  North 
would  confer  on  America,  if  she  would  settle  the 
dispute  with  the  mother  country.  The  better  to 
dispose  her  towards  these  oifers,  elegant  presents 
were  to  be  made  to  her  best  friends,  (such  as  Wash 
ington,  the  President  of  Congress,  &c.  &c.)  to  speak 
a  good  word  for  Lord  North's  favours  I  /  But,  ob 
serve,  Independence  was  to  be  out  of  the  question  ! 

DOCTOR  Franklin  used  laughingly  to  say,  that 
"  Lord  North  and  his  great  favours,  put  him  in  mind 
"  of  an  old  bawd,  and  her  attempts  upon  a  young 
"  virgin,  to  whom  she  promised  every  thing  but  In- 
"  nocence.  While  in  robbing  her  of  innocence,  the 
"  old  hag  knew  well  enough  that  she  was  robbing 
"  the  poor  girl  of  that  without  which  she  would  soon 
"  in  spite  of  her  fine  gowns  and  necklaces,  become 
"  a  miserable  outcast  and  slave." 

FINDING  that  Lord  North,  in  the  multitude  of  his 
favours,  had  entirely  forgotten  the  only  one  which 
they  valued,  i.  e.  the  Independence  of  their  country, 
the  committee  of  Congress  broke  off  all  farther  con 
verse  with  the  ministerial  commissioners,  who  pro 
ceeded  immediately  to  try  the  efficacy  of  their  pre 
sents.  To  Washington,  'tis  said,  a  viceroyship,  with 
tons  of  gold,  was  to  have  been  tendered.  But,  to  the 
honour  of  the  commissioners  be  it  said,  not  one  of 
their  number  was  graceless  enough  to  breathe  the 
polluted  wish  into  his  ear.  They  had,  however,  the 
hardihood  to  throw  out  a  bait  of  10,000  guineas  to 
the  President  of  Congress,  Gen.  Reed.  His  answer 
is  worthy  of  lasting  remembrance.  "  Gentlemen" 
said  he,  u  I  am  poor,  very  poor.  But  your  king  is  not 
rich  enough  to  buy  me.1" 

ON  the  18th  of  June,  the  British  army,  now  under 
the  command  of  Clinton,  evacuated  Philadelphia  for 
New- York.  The  figure  they  made  on  the  road  had 
something  of  the  air  of  the  sublime;  for  their  bag- 


LIFE  OF  WAdHAtfjGTON.  101 

,  loaded  horses,  anJ  carriages,  formed  a  line  not 
less  than  twelve  miles  JR  length.  ^Genej^l:;  Washing 
ton,  whose  eye,  like  that  of  the  sacred  dragon,  was 
always  open,,  and  fixed  upon  the  enemies  of  America, 
immediately  crossed  the  Delaware  after  them — push 
ed  on  detached  corps  to  obstruct  their  advance — gall 
their  flanks— and  fall  on  their  rear,  while  he  himself 
moved  on  with  the  main  body  of  the  army.  By  the 
27th,  Clinton  had  advanced  as  far  Monmouth:  and 
Washington's  troops  were  close  on  h'ps  flank  and 
rear.  Next  morning  General  Lee,  with  500O  men, 
was  ordered  to  begin  the  attack  ;  Washington  moving 
on  briskly  to  support  him.  But,  as  he  advanced,  to 
feis  infinite  astonishment  he  met  Lee  retreating,  and 
the  enemy  pursuing.  "  For  God^a  safe,  General  Lee" 
said  Washington  with  great  warmth,  "  -what's  the 
cause  of  this  ill~timtd  prudence?" 

"  No  man,,  sir,"  replied  Lee,  quite  convulsed  with 
rage,  "can  bvast  a  larger  portitn  of  that  rascally  vir 
tue  than  your  Excellency  /  /" 

DASHING  along  by  the  madman,  Washington  rode 
up  to  his  troops,  who,  at  sight  of  him,  rent  the  air 
with  u  God  save  great  Washington  /" 

"  MY  brave  fellows"  said  he,  "  can  yeu  fight  ?" 

THEY  answered  with  three  cheers!  u  Then  face 
•about,  my  heroes,  and  charge" — This  order  was  exe 
cuted  with  infinite  spirit.  The  enemy,  finding  them 
selves  now  warmly  opposed  in  front,  made  an  attempt 
to  turn  his  left  flank  ;  but  were  gallantly  attacked  and 
driven  back.  They  then  made  a  rapid  push  to  the 
right :  but  the  brave  Greene,  with  a  choice  body  of 
troops  and  artillery,  repulsed  them  with  considerable 
slaughter.  At  the  same  instant,  Wayne  advanced  with 
his  legion ;  and  poured  in  so  severe  and  well  directed 
a  fire,  that  the  enemy  were  glad  to  regun  their  de 
files.  Morgan's  rifles  distinguished  themselves  that 
day.  Washington  and  his  heroes  lay  upt  n  their  arms 
all  night,  resolved  to  fall  on  the  enemy  the  moment 
they  should  attempt  their  retreat  neiit  morning.  But 
K 


102  LIFE  0?  WASHINGTON. 

during  the  flight.  tl*ey  moved  off  in  silence  ;  and  got 
such  a  6  tart.,  -that  Washington  thought  it  dangerous, 
in  such  hot  weather,  to  make  a  push  after  them.  The 
Americans  lost  58  killed-  —  140  wounded.  The  Bri 
tish  had  249  killed,  and  the  wounded  in  proportion. 
Numbers,  on  both  sides,  died  of  the  extreme  heat, 
and  by  drinking  cold  'water. 

IN  September  1  780,  an  attempt  was  made  to  take 
off  our  Washington,  and  by  means  which  I  can  hard 
ly  believe  the  old  British  lion  was  ever  well  pleased 
with. 

I  ALLUDE  to  the  affair  of  Arnold's  treason.  That 
which  makes  rogues  of  thousands,  I  mean  Extrava 
gance,  was  the  ruin  of  this  great  soldier.  Though 
extremely  brave,  he  was  of  that  vulgar  sort,  who  hav 
ing  no  taste  for  the  pleasures  of  the  mind,  think  of 
nothing  but  high  living,  dress,  and  show.  To  rent 
large  houses  in  Philadelphia  —  to  entertain  French 
Ambassadors  —  to  give  balls  and  concerts,  and  grand 
dinners  and  suppers  —  required  more  money  than  he 
could  honestly  command.  And,  alas  !  such  ;s  the 
stuff  whereof  spendthrifts  are  made,  that  to  fatten 
his  Prodigality,  Arnold  consented  to  starve  his  Us- 
nesty  :  and  provided  he  might  but  figure  as  a  gor 
geous  Governor,  he  was  content  to  retail,  by  the 
billet  and  the  gill,  wood  and  rum  unfairly  drawn  from 
the  commissary's  store  ! 

COLONEL  Melcher,  the  barrack  master,  mentioned 
the  matter  to  Congress,  who  desired  him  to  issue  to 
General  Arnold  no  more  than  his  proper  rations.  He 
had  scarcely  returned  home  when  Arnold's  servant 
appeared  with  an  order  for  another  large  supply  of 
Rum,  Hickory  wood,  &?c.  £s?c. 

"  INFORM  your  master,"  said  Melcher,  "  that  he 
cartt  have  so  much." 

ARNOLD  immediately  came  down;  and  in  a  great 
passion  asked  Colonel  Melcher,  if  it  was  true  he  had 
protested  his  bill  ? 


AND  how  durst  you  do  it  ?" 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  103 

44  BY  order  of  Congress,  sir" 

AT  this,  Arnold,  half  choked  with  rage,  replied, 
"  JD — n  the  Rascals  /  /'//  remember  them  for  it.  Samp 
son-like  ril  shake  the  pillars  of  their  Liberty  temple 
about  their  ears  /" 

ON  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia  by  the  British, 
Gen.  Arnold  had  been  appointed  temporary  gover 
nor  of  that  city,  where  he  behaved  like  a  desperado, 
who  hesitates  at  nothing  to  stop  the  deadly  leaks  of 
his  prodigality,  and  to  keep  himself  from  sinking. 
Among  other  bold  strokes,  he  seized  and  sold  large 
quantities  of  American  property,  pretending  it  was 
British.  Complaints  were  made  to  Congress,  who, 
unwilling  to  expose  the  man  who  had  fought  so  gal 
lantly  for  Liberty,  treated  him  with  great  gentleness  : 
and  for  the  same  reason,  Washington  after  a  mild 
reproof,  gave  him  the  command  of  West  Point,  with 
a  large  body  of  troops. 

THE  history  of  Arnold's  embarrassments  and  his 
quarrel  with  his  countrymen,  soon  reached  New- 
York.  The  British  commander,  well  knowing  the 
ticklish  situation  of  a  proud  man,  caught  on  the 
horns  of  poverty,  sends  up  major  Andre,  with  mo 
ney  in  his  pocket.  The  major,  by  means  yet  un 
known  to  the  public,  got  near  enough  to  Arnold  to 
probe  him ;  and,  alas !  found  him,  both  in  principle 
and  purse,  hollow  as  an  exhausted  receiver,  and  very 
willing  to  be  filled  up  with  English  guineas.  Eng 
lish  guineas,  to  the  tune  of  ten  thousand,  with  the 
rank  and  pay  of  Brigadier  General,  are  offered  him; 
and  Arnold  agrees,  Oh  !  shocking  to  humanity !  Ar 
nold  agrees  to  sacrifice  Washington. 

THE  outlines  of  the  project  were,  it  seems,  that 
Arnold  should  make  such  a  disposition  of  the  troops 
at  West  Point,  as  to  enable  sir  Henry  Clinton,  so 
completely  to  surprize  them,  that  they  must  inevita 
bly,  either  lay  down  their  arms  or  be  cut  to  pieces — p 
with  General  Washington  among  them  !  !  The  victo 
rious  British  were  then,  both  by  land  and  water,  to 
rush  upon  the  feeble  and  dispirited  residue  of  the 


104         LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON; 

American  army*  in  the  neighbourhood,  utterly  una 
ble  to  resist,  when  there  would  follow  such  a  slaugh 
ter  of  men,  and  such  a  sweeping  of  artillery,  ammu 
nition,  stores,  &c.  &e.  as  would  completely  break 
down  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  and  reduce  them  to, 
unconditional  submission  to  the  Ministry  1 

To  be  certified  of  this  delightful  truth,  Andre,  du 
ring  Washington's  absence  from  West  Point,  comes 
ashore  from  a  sloop  of  war,  with  a  surtout  over  his. 
regimentals  ;  spends  a  day  and  night  with  Arnold  ; 
sees  with  his  own  eyes,  the  dear  train  laid,  the. 
matches  lighted,  and  every  thing  in  readiness,  a  few- 
nights  hence,  to  send  the  old  Virginia  farmer  and  his 
republic  to  destruction. 

EVERY  thing  being  settled  ta  satisfaction,  Andr<& 
wishes  to  set  off  to  carry  the  glorious  news  to  Gen- 
Clinton.  But,  behold !  by  a  fine  stroke  of  Providential 
interference,  he  cannot  get  on  board  the  ship  !  !  Ar 
nold  gives  him  a  horse  and  a  pass  to  go  to  New-York: 
by  land.  Under  the  name  of  Anderson  he  passes,  in 
safety,  all  the  guards.  Now,  like  an  uncaged  bird, 
and  light  as  the  air  he  breathes,  he  sweeps  along  the 
road.  His  fame  brightens  before  him — stars  and 
garters,  coaches  and  castles,  dance  before  his  delight-* 
ed  fancy — even  his  long-loved  reluctant  Delia  (Miss, 
Seward)  is  all  his  oivn — she  joins  in  the  nation's  gra^ 
titude — softly  she  rolls  her  eyes  of  love,  and  brighten 
ing  in  all  her  beauty,  sinks  o-n  his  enraptured  breast  \ 
In  the  mklst  of  these,  too,  too  happy  thoughts.,,  he  is, 
met  by  three  young  militia  men.  Though  not  on 
duty,  they  challenge  him.  He  answers  by  the  name 
of  Anderson;  shews  his.  pass ;  and  bo  kinds,  a  way*  Here 
the  guardian  genius  of  Columbia  burst  into  tears— 
she  saw  the  fall  of  her  hero,  and  her  country's  liber 
ties  crushed  for  ever.  Dry  thine  eyes,  blest  saint% 
thy  Washington  is  not  fallen  yet.  The  thick  bosses. 
of  Jehovah's  buckler  are  before  the  chief:  and  the 
shafts  of  his  enemies  shall  yet  fall  to  the  earth,  ac 
curst— Por,  scarce  had  Andre  passed  the  youug  mi-* 
litia-men,  before  one  of  them  tells  his  comrades,  that 
"  he  does  not  like  hix  lovks  ;>"  and  insists  that  he  sha\\ 


Pajre  105. 


Capture  of  Major  Andre- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  105 

be  called  back,  and  questioned  again.  His  answers 
prove  him  a  spy.  He  would  have  fled :  but  they  level 
their  musquets.  Trembling  and  pale,  he  offers  them 
an  elegant  gold-watch  to  let  him  go.  No!  He  presses 
on  them  a  purse  bloated  with  guineas.  No  !  He  pro 
mises  each  of  them  a  handsome  pension  for  lite— 
but  all  in  vain.  The  power  that  guarded  Washington 
was  wroth  with  Andre.  On  searching  him  they  find 
in  his  boot,  and  in  Arnold's  own  hand-writing,  a  plan 
of  the  whole  conspiracy  !  Sons  of  the  generous  soul, 
why  should  I  tell  how  major  Andre  died  ?  The  place 
where  his  gallows  stood  is  overgrown  with  weeds — 
but  smiling  angels  often  visit  the  spot;  and  it  was 
bathed  with  the  tears  of  his  foes. 

His  candour,  on  his  examination,  in  some  sort  ex 
piated  his  crime.  It  melted  the  angel  soul  of  Wash 
ington  :  and  the  tears  of  the  hero  were  mingled  with 
the  ink  that  signed  the  death-warrant  of  the  hapless 
youth.  The  names  of  the  young  men  who  arrested 
poor  Andre,  were,  JOHN  PAULDING,  DAVID  WIL 
LIAMS,  and  ISAAC  VAN  VERT.  They  were  at  cards 
under  a  large  poplar  that  grew  by  the  road,  where 
the  major  was  to  pass.  Congress  rewarded  them 
with  silver  medals  ;  and  settled  on  each  of  them 
S200  annually,  for  life. 

AMERICAN  writers  have  recorded  a  thousand  hand 
some  things  of  unfortunate  Andre.  They  have  made 
him  scholar,  soldier,  gentleman,  poet,  painter,  musi 
cian,  and,  in  short,  EVERY  THING  that  talents  and 
taste  can  make  a  man.  The  following  anecdote  will 
show  that  he  was  much  greater  still. 

SOME  short  time  before  that  fatal  affair  which 
brought  him  to  his  end,  (said  my  informant,  Mr. 
Drewy,  a  painter,  now  living  at  Newbern,)  a  fora 
ging  party  from  New-York  made  an  inroad  into  our 
settlement  near  that  city.  The  neighbours  soon  as 
sembled  to  oppose  them  ;  and,  though  not  above  fif 
teen  years  old,  I  turned  out  with  my  friends.  In  com 
pany  was  another  boy,  in  age  and  size  nearly  about 
my  own  speed.  We  had  counted  on  a  fine  chace: 
But  the  British  were  not  to  be  driven  so  easily  as  we 


106  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

had  expected.  Standing  their  ground,  they  not  only 
put  us  to  flight,  but  captured  several  of  our  party ; 
myself  and  the  other  boy  among  them.  They  present 
ly  set  out  with  us  for  New-York :  and,  all  the  way,  as 
we  were  going,  my  heart  ached  to  think  how  my  poor 
mother  and  sisters  would  be  distressed  when  night 
came,  and  I  did  not  return.  Soon  as  they  brought  me 
in  sight  of  the  prison,  I  was  struck  with  horror.  The 
gloomy  walls,  and  frightful  guards  at  the  doors,  and 
wretched  crowds  at  the  iron  windows,  together  with 
the  thoughts  of  being  locked  up  there  in  dark  dun 
geons  with  disease  and  death,  so  overcame  me,  that 
1  bursted  into  tears.  Instantly  a  richly  dressed  offi 
cer  stepped  up,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  with  a 
look  of  great  tenderness,  said,  "  My  dear  boy  I  "what 
makes  you  cry  ?"  I  told  him  I  could  not  help  it  when 
I  compared  my  present  sad  prospect  with  the  happy 
one  I  enjoyed  in  the  morning  with  my  mother  and 
sisters  at  home.  "  Well,  -well,  my  dear  child,  (said  he) 
doti't  cry,  don't  cry  any  more."  Then  turning  to  the 
jailor  ordered  him  to  stop  till  he  should  come  back. 
Though  but  a  boy,  yet  I  was  deeply  struck  with  the 
wonderful  difference  betwixt  this  man  and  the  rest 
around  me.  He  appeared  to  me  like  a  brother;  they 
like  brutes.  I  asked  the  jailor  who  he  was.  "Why, 
that's  major  Andre,  (said  he  angrily)  the  adjutant- 
general  of  the  army  ;  and  you  may  thank  your  stars 
that  he  saw  you  ;  for  I  suppose  he  is  gone  to  the  gene 
ral  to  beg  you  of,  as  he  has  done  many  of  your  d — d 
rebel  country  men.^  In  a  short  time  he  returned;  and 
with  great  joy  in  his  countenance  called  out-^"  Well, 
my  boys,  I've  good  news,  good  news  for  you  !  The 
General  has  given  you  to  me,  to  dispose  of  as  I  choose  ; 
and  now  you  are  at  liberty  !  So  run  home  to  your  fond 
parents,  and  be  good  boys  ;  mind  rvhat  they  tell  you  : 
say  your  prayers;  love  one  another;  and  God  Almighty 
will  bless  you" 

AND  yet  Andre  perished,  on  a  gallows,  while  Ar 
nold,  after  living  to  old  age,  died  in  his  bed  ! !  Shall 
we  hence  infer  with  Brutus,  that  "  Virtue  is  but  an 
empty  name  ?"  and  that  Andre  had  been  good  in  vain? 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  107 

God  forbid !  Goodness  and  happiness  are  twins.  Hea 
ven  hath  joined  them  together,  and  Hell  cannot  put 
them  asunder.  For  proof,  we  need  go  no  further  than 
to  Andre  himself — to  Andre  in  prison  !  Even  in  that 
last  and  gloomiest  scene  of  his  life,  we  see  the  power 
which  virtue  has  to  illuminate  the  dark,  to  enliven  the 
sad,  and  to  raise  her  votaries  above  the  terrors  of 
death.  In  the  first  moment  of  his  capture,  when 
vulgar  minds  are  thinking  of  nothing  but  self-pre 
servation,  he  is  thinking  of  nothing  but  duty  and  gene 
rosity.  Regardless  of  himself,  he  is  only  anxious  for 
Arnold.  Having  by  letter  advised  that  wretched  man 
of  his  danger,  and  give  him  time  to  escape,  he  then 
gallantly  asserts  his  own  real  character ;  and  avows 
himself  "the  Adjutant  General  of  the  British  army" 
THE  truth  is,  he  had  been  sent  by  Gen.  Clinton, 
on  a  dirty  piece  of  business  for  which  he  was  not  fit  ; 
and  of  which  he  was  so  heartily  ashamed,  that  he  ap 
pears  to  have  been  willing  to  atone  for  it  with  his  life. 
Hence  to  the  questions  put  at  his  trial,  he  answered 
with  a  candour  which  at  once  surprised  and  melted 
the  Court  Martial — he  answered,  with  the  candour  of 
a  mind  which  feared  its  ozvn  condemnation  more  than 
that  of  any  human  tribunal. — -He  heard  his  sentence  of 
death  with  periect  indifference  ;  and  at  the  place  of 
execution  behaved  like  one  who  had  fulfilled  the  high 
duties  of  son,  brother,  and  man,  with  constant  atten 
tion  to  a  happy  immortality.  Thus  giving  the  friends 
of  virtue  abundant  cause  to  exclaim  : 

"  Far  more  true  peace  the  dying  Andre  felt, 
w  Than  Arnold  ever  knew  in  prosperous  guilt." 

He,  poor  wretch,  survived  !  but  only  to  live  a  life,  at 
once  hated  and  despised— hated  by  the  British  Gene 
ral,  whom  he  had  shown  capable  of  assassinating  the 
man  he  could  not  conquer-~-hated\>y  the  British  army, 
whom  he  had  robbed  of  one  of  its  brightest  orna 
ments — and  hated  by  the  officers,  who  could  not  beai 
to  see  what  thev  called  "a  d — mn'd  traitor"  no 


108  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

only  introduced  into  their  company,  but  placed  over 
their  heads  ?  In  short,  Arnold  was  an  eye-sore  to  eve 
ry  man  of  nonour  in  England,  where  he  was  often 
most  grossly  insulted. 

SOON  after  his  flight  to  England  with  the  slender 
remains  of  the  British  army,  he  went  down  to  South 
ampton,  where  the  broken-hearted  Mother  and  Sis 
ters  of  the  unfortunate  Andre  lived.  And  so  little 
was  he  acquainted  with  the  human  heart,  that  he 
called  to  see  them  !  On  hearing  his  name  announced 
by  the  servant,  they  burst  into  tears ;  and  sent  him 
word,  that  "  they  did  not  wish  to  see  him" 

THE  moment  he  received  Major  Andre's  letter, 
the  terrified  Arnold  made  his  escape  to  New-York. 
BRITISH  historians  have  wondered  that  he  left  his 
wife  in  the  power  of  Washington.  But  Arnold  knew 
in  whom  he  trusted :  and  the  generous  man  behav 
ed  exactly  as  Arnold  had  foreseen ;  for  he  immedi 
ately  sent  him  his  clothes  and  baggage ;  and  wrote 
a  polite  letter  of  condolence  to  his  lady,  offering  her 
a  conveyance  to  her  husband,  or  to  her  friends  in 
Pennsylvania. 

WASHINGTON  now  waged  the  war  with  various 
success.  On  the  one  hand,  his  hero  of  Saratoga 
(Gates)  was  defeated  with  great  loss,  at  Camden; 
on  the  other,  the  British  lost,  on  the  King's-Moun- 
tain,  the  brave  Colonel  Ferguson,  with  all  his  army, 
I,40O  men.  Colonel  Ferguson  and  his  men  were 
supposed  by  the  British,  the  most  exquisite  marks 
men  alive.  And  indeed  to  hear  their  bravadoes,  one 
would  suppose,  that  give  them  but  guns  of  a  proper 
calibre,  and  they  would  think  it  a  light  affair  to  snuff 
the  moon,  or  drive  the  centre  of  the  fixed  stars.  But 
the  American  Rifle-boys  soon  let  them  into  a  truer 
way  of  thinking.  For  in  a  few  rounds  they  pink'd 
the  brave  Colonel,  and  put  300  of  his  exquisite 
marksmen  asleep  ;  which  struck  such  a  wholesome 
panic  into  the  survivors,  that  the)  threw  down  their 
armsr  and  like  thrifty  gentlemen  called  out  right 
lustily  for  quarters. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  109 

BUT  few  of  the  Americans  fell ;  but  among  these 
was  ont^  whose  fame  "  Time -with  his  own  eternal  lip 
shall  smg"     I  mean  the  brave  Col.  Williams.     He 
it  was,  whose  burning  words  first  kindled  the  young 
farmers  at  their  ploughs,  and  led  them  to  the  K  ing 
Mountain,  to    measure  their  youthful    rifles  with 
Ferguson's  heroes.     On  receiving  the   ball  which 
opened  in  his  breast  the  crimson  sluice  of  life,  he 
was  borne  by  his  aids,  into  the  rear ;  where  he  was 
scarcely  laid  down,  fainting  with  loss  of  blood,  before 
a  voice  was  heard,  loud  exclaiming,  "  Hurra  !  My 
Boys  !  the  day  is  our  own  !  the  day  is  our  own  !  they 
are  crying  for  quarters  ?"  Instantly  he  started,    as 
from  the  incipient  sleep  of  death  ;  and,   opening  his 
heavy  eyes,  eagerly  called  out,  "  My  God!  who  are 
crying  for  quarters  ?" — "  The  British  !    The  Brit 
ish  /"  replied  the  powder-blackened  riflemen.      At 
this,  one  last  beam  ot  joy  lighted  in  a  smile   on  his 
dying  face  :  then  faintly  whispering,  God  be  praised  ! 
he  bowed  his  head  in  everlasting  pfcace. 

JOY  follow  thee,  my  brother,  to  HIS  BLEST  PRE 
SENCE,  who  sent  thee,  a  pillar  of  fire,  to  blast  the  mad 
efforts  of  men  fighting  against  their  brethren!  On 
earth  thy  fame  shall  never  fail.  Children  yet  unborn 
shall  lisp  the  name  of  Williams.  Their  cherub  lips 
shall  often  talk  of  him  whose  patriot  eye  beheld 
them,  afar  off,  smiling  on  the  breast,  and  \vith  a 
parent's  ardour  hasted  to  ward  from  their  guiltless 
heads  the  curses  of  monarchy. 

AFTER  the  defeat  of  Gates,  Washington  sent  on 
his  favourite  Greene  to  head  the  southern  army 
against  the  victorious  Cornwallis  and  Tarleton. 
With  Greene  he  joined  the  famous  Morgan,  whose 
riflemen  had  performed  such  signal  service  during 
the  war. 

To  draw  Cornwallis's  attention  from  a  blow  medi 
tated  against  the  British  post  at  Ninety-Six,  Greene 
detached  Morgan  to  Paulet^s  river,  near  the  neigh 
bourhood  of  Cornwallis  and  Tarleton.  Immediate 
ly  the  pride  of  Tarleton  rose.  He  begged  of  his 


HO          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

friend,  lord  Rawdon,  to  obtain  for  him  the  permis 
sion  of  the  commander  in  chief  to   go   and   attack 
Morgan.    u  By  Heaven,  my  lord,  (said  he)   /  could 
not  desire  a  fner  feather  in  my  cap  than  Col.  Mor 
gan.     Such  a  prisoner  "would  make  my  fortune" 
Ah,  Ben,   (replied  Rawdon  very  coolly)    you   had 
better  let  the  old  -wagoner  alone"     And  onr  salute 
could  satisfy,  permission  at  length  was  granted  him  ; 
and  he  instantly  set  out.     At  parting,  he  said  to 
lord  Rawdon  with  a  srtaile,    "  My  lord,   if  you  will 
be  so  obliging  as  to  wait  dinne> ,  the  day  after  to 
morrow,  till  four  o'clock,  Col.  Morgan  shall  be  one  of 
your  lordship's  guests"     u  Very  well,  Ben,  (said 
the  other)   we  shall  wait.     But  remember,  Morgan 
was  brought  up  under  Washington." — Tarleton  was 
followed  to  battle  by  about  1OOO  choice  infantry  and 
250  horse,  with  two  field  pieces.     To  oppose  this 
formidable  force,  Morgan  had  but  5OO  militia,  3OO 
regulars,  and  75  horse.     His  militia  were  but  mili 
tia.      His  regulars   were   the  famous    MARYLAND 
LINE  led  by  Howard  ;     men  who  would  have  done 
honour  to  the  plains  of  Austerlitz.     The   intrepid 
Desaix,  who  turned  the  tide  of  war  in  the  bloody 
strife  of  Marengo,    was  only  equal  to  Washington, 
Col.  of  the  horse.   Morgan  had  no  wish  to  fight.   But 
Tarleton  compelled  him  ;  for  about  two  hours  before 
day  on  the  1 7th  of  January,  1 78 1 ,  some  of  Washing 
ton's   cavalry  came   galloping  into  camp  w>th  news 
that  the  British  were  but  eight  miles  off,    and  would 
be  up  by  day  break.   Instantly  Morgan  called  a  coun 
cil  of  war,  composed  only  of  Howard,  Washington, 
and  himself.    "  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "what's 
44  to  be  done  ?  shall  we  fight  or  fly  ?  shall  we  leave  our 
44  friends  to  our  enemies  ;  and  burning  our  meal  and 
44  bacon,  so  hardly  got,  turn  out  again  into  the  starv- 
44  ing  woods  ;  or  shall  we  stand  by  both,    and  fight 
44  like  men  ?" 

44  No  burning  !  no  flying,"  replied  they,  "  but  let's 
44  stand,  and  fight  like  men  !" 

44  WELL  then,  my  brave  fellows,  (said  Morgan) 
u  wake  up  the  troops,  and  prepare  for  action  " 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  ill 

THE  ground,  on  which  this  very  memorable  battle 
was  fought,  was  an  open  pine  barren.  The  militia 
were  drawn  up  about  two  hundred  yards  in  front  of 
the  regulars,  and  the  horse  some  small  distance  in 
the  rear.  Just  after  day  break,  the  British  came  in 
sight;  and  halting  within  a  quarter  ot  a  mile  of  the 
militia,  began  to  prepare  for  battle.  The  Sun  had 
just  risen,  as  the  enemy,  with  loud  shouts,  advanced 
to  the  charge.  The  militia,  hardly  waiting  to  give 
them  a  distant  fire,  broke  and  fled  for  their  horses, 
which  were  tied  at  some  distance  on  the  wings  of 
the  Maryland  line.  Tarleton's  cavalry  pushed  hard 
alter  the  fugitives,  and,  coming  up  with  them  just 
as  they  had  reached  their  horses,  began  to  cut  them 
down.  Unable  to  bear  that  sight,  Col.  Washington, 
with  his  corps,  dashed  on  to  their  rescue.  As  it  cer 
tain  of  victory,  Tarleton's  men  were  all  scattered  in 
the  chase.'... .Washington's  heroes,  on  the  contrary, 
sensible  of  the  fearful  odds  against  them,  advanced 
close  and  compact  as  the  Spartan  phalanx.  Then 
sudden  and  terrible  the  charge  was  made  !  Like  men 
fighting,  life  in  hand,  all  at  once  they  rose  high  on 
their  stirrups !  while  in  streams  of  lightning  their 
swords  came  down,  and  heads  and  arms,  and  caps, 
and  carcasses,  distained  with  spouting  gore,  rolled 
fearfully  all  around.  Mournfully  from  all  sides  the 
cries  wt  the  wounded  were  heard,  and  the  hollow 
groans  of  the  dying. 

AGONIZING  with  rage  and  grief,  Tarleton  beheld 
the  flight  ol  his  boasted  victory,  and  the  slaughter  of 
his  bravest  troops.  He  flew  to  reanimate  them.  He 
encouraged — he  threatened — he  stormed  and  raved. 
But  all  in  vain.  No  time  was  given  to  rally ;  for 
like  the  heavy  ship  under  crowded  canvas,  bursting 
through  the  waves,  so,  strong  and  resistless,  Wash 
ington's  squadron  went  on,  hewing  down  and  over 
throwing  every  thing  in  their  way.  Confounded  by 
such  a  fatal  charge,  the  British  cavalrv  could  not 
support  it;  but  broke  and  fled  in  the  utmost  precipi 
tation  ;  while,  bending  forward  over  their  horsts, 
L 


112  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

and  waving  their  blood-stained  swords,  the  loud- 
shouting  Americans  pursued.  The  woods  resound 
ed  with  the  noise  of  their  flight. 

As  when  a  mammoth  suddenly  dashes  in  among 
a  thousand  buffaloes,  feeding  at  large  on  the  vast 
plains  of  Missouri  ;  all  at  once  the  innumt  rous  herd, 
with  wildly  rolling  eyes,  and  hideous  bellowings, 
break  forth  into  flight,  while,  close  at  their  heels,  the 
roaring  monster  follows.  Earth  trembles  as  they  fly. 
Such  was  the  noise  in  the  chase  of  Tarleton,  when 
the  swords  of  Washington's  cavalry  pursued  his 
troops  frcm  the  famous  fields  of  the  Cowpens.  It  was 
like  a  peal  of  thunder,  loud  roaring  at  first,  but 
gradually  dying  on  the  ear  as  it  rolls  away  along 
the  distant  air. 

By  this  time  the  British  infantry  had  come  up  : 
and,  having  crossed  a  little  valley,  just  as  they  ascen 
ded  the  hill,  they  found  themselves  within  twenty 
steps  of  Howard  and  his  regulars,  who  received  them 
with  a  right  soldierly  welcome,  and,  taking  good  aim, 
poured  in  a  general  and  deadly  fire.  A  slaughter  so 
entirely  unexpected,  threw  the  enemy  into  confusion. 
Seeing  this  wonderful  change  in  the  battle,  the  mili 
tia  recovered  their  spirits,  and  began  to  form  on  the 
right  of  the  regulars.  Morgan  waving  his  sword,  in 
stantly  rode  up  to  them,  and  with  a  voice  of  thunder 
roared  out,  u  Hurra!  my  brave  fellows,  form,  form! 
Old  Morgan  was  never  I  eat  in  his  life.. . one  f re  more, 
my  heroes,  and  the  day  is  our  own  /"  With  answtr- 
ing  shouts,  both  regulars  and  militia  then  advanced 
upon  the  enemy  ;  and,  following  their  fire  with  the 
bayonet,  instantly  decided  the  conflict.  The  ground 
was  covered  with  the  dead.  The  topai  of  the  aged 
pines  shook  with  the  ascending  ghosts.  With  feeble 
cries  and  groans,  at  once  they  rose,  like  flocks  of 
snow-white  swans  when  the  cold  blast  strikes  them 
on  the  lakes  of  Canada,  and  sends  them  on  wide- 
sprt  ad  wings,  far  to  the  south  to  seek  a  happier  clime. 
\\  ASHINGTON  pursued  Tarleton  20  miles  !  and, 
durii  g  the  race,  was  often  so  near  him,  that  he  could 
easily  have  killed  him  with  a  pistol  shot.  But  having 


LITE  OF  WASHINGTON.  113 

strictly  forbidden  his  men  to  fire  a  pistol  that  day, 
he  could  not  resolve  to  break  his  oivn  orders.  How 
ever  there  was  one  of  his  men  who  broke  them.  At 
one  time  Washington  was  30  or  40  yards  ahead  of 
his  men.  Tarlcton  observing  this,  suddenly  wheel 
ed  with  a  couple  of  his  dragoons  to  cut  him  off. 
Washington,  with  more  courage  than  prudence  per 
haps,  dashed  on,  and  rising  on  his  stirrups,  made  a 
blow  at  Tarlcton,  with  such  force,  that  it  beat  down 
his  guard  and  mutilated  one  or  two  of  his  fingers. 
In  this  unprotected  state,  one  of  the  British  dragoons 
was  aiming  a  stroke  which  must  have  killed  him. 
But,  the  good  genii,  who  guard  the  name  of  Wash- 
ington,  prevailed  :  for  in  that  critical  moment  a  mere 
dwarf  of  a  Frenchman  rushed  up,  and  with  a  pistol 
ball  shivered  the  arm  of  the  Briton.  The  other 
dragoon  attempted  to  wheel  off  ;  but  was  cut  down. 
Tarleton  made  his  escape. 

TARLETON  was  brave,  but  not  generous.  He  could 
not  bear  to  hear  another's  praise.      When  some  la- 


of  Washington,  he  replied  with  a  scornful  air,  that, 
44  He  would  be  very  glad  to  get  a  sight  of  Col.  Wash 
ington.  He  had  heard  much  talk  of  him"  he  said, 
44  but  had  never  seen  him  yet"  u  Why,  sir"  rejoined 
one  of  the  ladies,  "  if  you  had  looked  behind  you  at 
the  battle  of  the  Cowpens,  you  might  easily  have  en 
joyed  that  ple-asui  e." 

WHILE  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Halifax,  North- 
Carolina,  Tarleton  dined  in  3  large  company.  The 
elegant  and  witty  Mrs,  Wiley  Jones  happened  to  be 
of  the  party.  The  ladies,  who  were  chiefly  whigs, 
were  frequently  praising  the  brave  Col.  Washing 
ton.  Tarleton  with  looks  considerably  angry,  re 
plied,  "  that  he  was  very  much  surprised  that  the 
44  Americans  should  think  so  highly  of  Col.  Wash- 
44  ington  ;  for,  from  what  he  could  learn,  he  was  quite 
44  an  illiterate  fellow,  and  could  hardly  write  his  own 
44  name."  "  That  may  be  very  true  (replied  Mrs. 


114  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON, 

Jones)  "  but  I  believe,  sir,  you  can  testify  that  he 
u  knows  how  to  make  his  mark."  Poor  Tarleton 
looked  at  his  crippled  finger,  and  bit  his  lips  with 
rage. 

General  WASHINGTON  continued  the  war  against 
the  British  till  1781  ;  when  Cornwallis  pushed  into 
Virginia,  and  fortified  himself  at  York-Town.  But 
the  eye  of  Washington  was  upon  him  ;  and  with  an 
address,  which,  the  British  historians  say,  was  never 
equalled,  he  concerted  a  plan  that  ended  in  the  total 
destruction  of  Cornwallis.  He  artfully  wrote  letters 
to  Greene,  informing,  that,  u  in  order  to  relieve 
Virginia,  he  was  determined  immediately  to  attack 
New-Tork"  These  letters  were  so  disposed  as  to 
fall  into  the  right  hands.  Clinton  took  the  alarm. 
But  while  the  British  general  was  in  daily  expecta 
tion  of  a  visit  from  him,  Washington  and  his  army, 
were  now  across  the  Delaware,  with  full  stretch  to 
the  south,  darkening  the  day  with  their  clouds  of 
rolling  dust.  Cornwallis  saw  that  the  day  of  his  fall 
was  at  hand.  He  had  done  all  that  a  brave  (would 
to  God  we  could  add,  a  humane)  man  could  do  ; 
but  all  in  vain.  On  the  last  day  of  September,  Wash 
ington  sat  down  before  York,  with  1OO  pieces  of 
heavy  artillery.  On  the  7th  of  October  this  dread 
ful  train  began  to  thundtr  :  and  the  British  works 
sunk  before  them*  Lord  Cornwallis,  unwilling  to 
expose  his  army  to  the  destruction  of  a  general  as 
sault,  agreed  on  the  17th  to  surrender.  This  was 
justly  considered  the  close  of  the  war;  which  having 
been  begun  with  supplication,  Washington  piously 
ordered  to  be  finished  with  thanksgiving. 

IN  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  the  behaviour  of  the 
Americans  was,  as  usual,  generous  and  noblr.  The 
amiable  Col.  Scammel,  adjutant-general  of  the  Ame 
rican  army,  and  uncommonly  beloved  by  them,  was 
dangerously  wounded  and  taken  prisoner  by  some 
British  diagoons,  who  barbarously  trotted  him  on 
before  them,  three  miles,  into  town,  where  he  pre 
sently  died  of  fever  and  loss  of  blood.  Great  was 
the  mourning  for  Scammel.  In  a  few  nights  after, 


Page  114. 


Surrender  of  Lord  Cormcallit. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  1U 

Washington  gave  orders  to  storm  two  of  the  enemy'* 
redoubts,  which  were  carried  almost  in  an  instant. 
The  British  called  for  quartos:  A  voice  of  death  was 
heard,  "  Remember  po  r  bcammel  .'"—«•>  Remember \ 
'g  ntlemen,  you  are  Americans .'"  was  rejoined  by  the 
Commander :  and  instantly  the  points  of  the  Ameri 
can  bayonets  were  thrown  up  towards  h eaven  / 

THE  conduct  of  the  French  also,  was  such  as  to 
entitle  them  to  equal  praise. 

FOR  when  the  British  marched  out  to  lay  down 
their  arms,  the  French  officers  were  seen  to  shed 
tears.  They  condoled  with  the  British,  and  tendered 
them  their  purses  ! — Glorious  proof,  that  God  never 
intended  men  to  be,  as  some  wickedly  term  it,  natur 
al  enemies. 

ON  hearing  in  Congress  the  fall  of  Cornwallis, 
the  door-keeper  swooned  with  joy—on  hearing  the 
same  news  announced  in  parliament,  lord  North  feU 
back  in  his  chair,  in  the  deepest  distress.  On  re 
ceipt  of  the  glad  tidings,  Congress  broke  forth  into 
'songs  of  praise  to  God  :  Parliament  into  execrations 
against  their  Prime  Minister— -Congress  hastened 
to  the  temple  to  pay  their  vows  to  the  Most  High* 
the  Parliament  went  to  St.  Jameses  with  a  petition 
to  the  King  for  a  change  of  men  and  measures* 
The  King  was  graciously  pleased  to  hear  the  voice 
of  their  prayer.  Men  and  measures  were  changed.; 
and  a  decree  was  passed  that  whoever  should  ad- 
Vise  war  and  a  farther  widening  of  the  breach  be 
tween  Britain  and  America,  should  be  denounced 
an  equal  enemy  to  both.  Then  lull  leafed  and  green 
the  olive  branch  of  peace  was  held  out  to  the  na 
tions  :  and  the  eyes  of  millions,  on  both  sides  of  the 
\vater,  were  lifted  in  transport  to  the  lovely  sign 
The  stern  features  of  war  were  relaxed  $  and  glad 
dening  smiles  began  again  to  brighten  over  the 
*'  humanface  divine?'  But  Washington  beheld  the 
lovely  sight  with  doubt.  Long  accustomed  uner 
ringly  to  predict  what  Britain  would  do,  from  what 
lie  knew  she  had  power  to  do,  he  had  nothing  t® 
,  but  every  thing  to  fear,  America,  wkhoiftwt*- 


116          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ney  or  credit ! — her  officers,  without  a  dollar  in  their 
pocket,  strolling  about  camps  in  long  beards  and  dir 
ty  shirts — her  soldiers  often  without  a  crust  in  their 
knapsacks  or  a  dram  in  their  canteens — and  her 
citizens  every  where  sick  and  tired  of  war  ! — Great- 
Britain,  on  the  other  hand,  every  where  victorious 
over  the  fleets  of  her  enemies — completely  mistress 
of  the  watery  world,  and,  Judas-like,  bag-bearer  of 
its  commerce  and  cash  !  with  such  resources,  with 
all  these  trumps  in  her  hands,  will  she  play  quits,  and 
make  a  drawn  game  of  it  ?  Impossible  !  but  if  she 
should,  "  it  must  be  the  work  of  that  Providence 
"  who  ruleth  in  the  armies  of  Heaven  and  earth, 
"  and  whose  hand  has  been  visibly  displayed  in 
"  every  step  of  our  progress  to  independence." 
"  Nothing,"  continued  Washington,  a  can  remove 
*c  my  doubts  but  an  order  from  the  ministry  to  re- 
"  move  their  fleets  and  armies." 

THAT  welcome  order  at  length,  was  given  !  and 
the  British  troops,  sprucely  powdered  and  perfumed, 
in  eager  thousands  hied  on  board  their  ships. 

"  All  hands  unmoor  .'"  the  stamping  boatswain  cry'd  s 
"  All  hands  unmoor!"  the  joyous  crew  replied. 

THEN  in  a  moment  they  all  fly  to  work.  Some 
seizing  the  ready  handspikes,  vault  high  upon  the 
windlasses  ;  thence  coming  down  all  at  once  with  the 
hearty  Yo-heave-O,  they  shake  the  sounding  decks, 
and  tear  from  their  dark  oozy  beds  the  ponderous 
anchors.  Others,  with  halyards  hard  strained 
through  the  creaking  blocks,  sway  aloft  the  wide- 
extended  yards,  and  spread  their  canvas  to  the  gale, 
which,  with  increasing  freshness,  bears  the  broad- 
winged  ships  in  foam  and  thunder  through  the  waves. 
Great  was  the  joy  of  the  multitude  ;  for  they  were 
hastening  to  revisit  their  native  land,  and  to  meet 
those  eyes  of  love  which  create  a  heaven  in  a  virtu 
ous  breast.  But  the  souls  of  some  were  sad.  These 
Were  the  reflecting  few^  whose  thoughts  were  on  the 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  117 

better  hopes  of  former  days  !  To  them,  the  flow 
ing  bowl,  the  lively  joke,  the  hearty  laugh  and  song, 
gave  no  delight ;  nor  yet  the  blue  fu  Ids  of  ocean 
brightly  shining  round,  with  all  her  young  billows 
wantoning  before  the  playful  breeze.  Tluir  country 
ruined,  and  themselves  repulsed,  how  could  they  re 
joice  !  Then  slowly  retiring  from  the  noisy  crew,  by 
themselves  apart  they  sat  on  the  lofty  stern,  high 
above  the  burning  track  which  the  ships  left  behind 
them  in  their  rapid  flight.  There,  deep  in  thought, 
they  sat  with  eyes  sad  fixed  on  the  lessening  shores, 
and  ruminated  even  to  melancholy.  The  dismal 
war  returns  upon  their  thoughts,  with  the  pleasant 
days  of '76,  then  bright  with  hope,  but,  now,  alas! 
all  darkened  in  despair.  k*  'Twas  then,"  said  they, 
44  we  first  approached  these  coasts,  shaded  far  and 
wide  with  our  navies,  nodding  tall  and  stately  over 
the  heaving  surge.  From  their  crowded  decks 
looked  forth  myriads  oi  blooming  warriors,  eagerly 
gazing  on  the  lovely  shores,  the  farms,  and  flocks, 
and  domes,  fondly  regarded  as  their  own,  with  all 
the  bi  auteous  maids,  the  easy  purchase  oi  a  bloodless 
strife  !  But  ah,  vain  hope  !  Washington  met  us  in  his 
strength.  His  people  poured  around  him  as  the 
brindled  sons  of  the  desert  around  their  sire,  when 
he  lilts  his  terrible  voice,  and  calls  them  from  their 
dens,  to  aid  him  in  war  against  the  mighty  rhino 
ceros.  The  battle  raged  along  a  thousand  fields — 
a  thousand  streams  ran  purple  with  British  gore. 
And  now  of  all  our  blooming  warriors,  alas!  how 
few  remain!  Pierced  by  the  fatal  rifle,  far  the  greater 
part  now  press  their  bloody  beds.  There,  each  on 
his  couch  of  honour,  lie  those  who  were  once  the 
flower  of  our  host.  There  lies  the  gallant  Frazer, 
the  dauntless  Ferguson,  the  accomplished  Donop, 
and  that  pride  of  youth,  the  generous  Andre,  with 
thousands  equally  brave  and  good.  But,  O!  ye 
dear  partners  of  this  cruel  strife,  though  fallen,  ye 
are  not  forgotten !  Often,  with  tears  do  we  see  you 
still,  as  when  you  rejoiced  with  us  at  the  feast,  or 


118  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

fought  by  our  sides  in  battle.  But  vain  was  all  our 
valour.  God  fought  for  Washington.  Hence  our 
choicest  troops  are  fallen  before  him  ;  and  we,  the 
sad  remains  of  war,  are  now  returning,  inglorious, 
to  our  native  shores.  Land  of  the  graves  of  He 
roes,  farewell !  Ghosts  of  the  noble  cK  ad  !  chide  not 
the  steps  of  our  departure  !  ye  are  left:  but  it  is  in 
the  land  of  brothers,  who  often  mourned  the  death 
which  their  valour  gave.  But  now  the  unnatural 
strife  is  past,  and  peace  returns.  And  O  !  with 
peace  may  that  spirit  return  which  once  warmed 
the  hearts  ot  Americans  towards  their  British 
brethren,  when  the  sight  of  our  tall  ships  was  wont 
to  spread  joy  along  their  shores  ;  and  when  the  plan 
ter,  viewing  his  cototn-covered  fields,  rejoiced  that 
he  was  preparing  employment  and  bread  for  thou 
sands  of  our  poor  ! !" 

THE  hostile  fleets  and  armies  thus  withdrawn, 
and  the  Independence  of  his  country  acknowledged  ; 

Washington  proceeded,  at  the  command  of  Congress, 

*~  ,r.~u i  *u.»,, i     fr>     »».:_  .'          i       P    t, 

tt_>  \jiawtinu  uic  «» my  :      10  uns  event,  tnougn  or  ait 

others  the  dearest  to  his  heart,  he  had  ever  looked 
forward  with  trembling  anxiety.  Loving  his  soldiers 
as  his  children,  how  could  he  tell  them  the  painful 
truth  which  the  poverty  of  his  country  had  imposed 
on  him  ?  How  could  he  tell  them,  that  after  all  they 
had  done  and  suffered  with  him,  they  must  now 
ground  their  arms,  and  return  home,  many  of  them 
without  a  decent  suit  on  their  backs,  or  a  penny  in 
their  pockets  ? 

BUT  he  was  saved  the  pain  of  making  this  com 
munication;  for  they  soon  received  it  from  another 
quarter,  and  with  circumstances  calculated  to  kindle 
the  fiercest  indignation  against  thuir  country.  Let 
ters  were  industriously  circulated  through  the  army, 
painting  in  the  strongest  colours,  their  unparalleled 
sufferings,  and  the  ingratitude  of  Congress. 

u  CONFIDING  in  her  honour,"  said  the  writer, 
44  did  you  not  cheerfully  enlist  in  the  service  of  your 
44  country,  and  for  her  dear  sake  encounter  all  the 
"  evils  of  a  soldier's  life  ?  Have  you  not  beaten  the 


iL  OF  WASHINGTON.  119 

ice-bound  road  full  many  a  wintry  day,    without 
a  shoe  to  your  bleeding  feet ;  and  wasted  the  long 

4  bitter  night,  without  a  tent,  to  shelter  your  heads 
44  from  the  pelting  storm  ?  Have  you  not  borne  the 
44  brunt  af  many  a  bloody  fight,  and,  from  the  hands 
44  of  hard  struggling  foes,  torn  the  glorious  prize, 
44  YOUR  COUNTRY'S  INDEPENDENCE  ?  And  now  after 
44  all — after  wasting  in  her  service  the  flower  of  your 
44  days — with  bodies  broken  under  arms,  and  bones 
44  with  the  pains  and  aches  of  a  seven  year's  war, 
14  will  you  suffer  yourselves  to  be  sent  home  in  rags 
44  to  your  families,  to  spend  the  sad  remains  of  life 
44  in  poverty  and  scorn  ? — No !  my  brothers  in  arms  ! 
44  I  trust  you  will  not.  I  trust  you  bear  no  such 
44  coward  minds.  I  trust,  that  after  having  fought 
44  so  bravely  for  the  rights  of  others,  you  will  now 
44  fight  a^  bravely  for  your  own  rights.  And  now  is 
44  the  accepted  time  and  golden  hour  of  redress, 
44  while  you  have  weapons  in  your  hands,  the 
44  strength  of  an  army  to  support  you,  and  a  beloved 
u  General  at  your  head,  ready  to  lead  you  to  that 
44  Justice  which  you  owe  to  yourselves,  and,  which 
44  you  have  so  long  but  vainly  expected  from  an  un- 
*4  grateful  country." 

THESE  letters  produced,  as  might  have  been  ex 
pected,  a  most  alarming  effect.  Rage,  like  a  fire  in 
secret,  began  to  burn  throughout  the  camp.  Wash 
ington  soon  perceived  it.  He  discovered  it  in  his 
Soldiers,  as,  gathered  into  groupes,  they  stood  and 
murmured  over  their  grievances,  while,  with  furious 
looks  and  gestures,  they  stamped  on  the  earth,  and 
hurled  their  curses  against  Congress.  Gladdening 
at  such  success  of  his  first  letters,  the  writer  instant 
ly  sent  around  a  second  series,  still  more  artful  and 
inflammatory  than  the  first.  Thepassionsof  the  army 
now  rose  to  a  height  that  threatened  instantaneous 
explosion.  But  still  their  eyes,  beaming  reverence 
and  love,  were  turned  towards  their  honoured  chief, 
to  whom  they  had  ever  looked  as  to  a  father. 

OFTEN  had  they  marked  his  tears,  as,  visiting  their 
encainpments,  he  beheld  them  suffering  and  sinking 


120  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

under  fevers  and  fluxes,  for  want  of  clothes  and  pro 
visions.  Often,  had  they  hushed  their  complaints, 
trusting  to  his  promises  that  Congress  would  still 
remember  them.  But  behold !  his  promises  and 
their  hopes  are  all  alike  abortive  ! 

AND  will  not  Washington,  the  friend  of  justice 
and  father  of  his  army,  avenge  them  on  a  government 
which  has  thus  basely  defrauded  them, and  deceived 
him  ?  There  needed  but  a  glance  of  his  approbation 
to  set  the  whole  army  in  motion.  Instantly  with  fixed 
bayonets  they  would  have  hurled  the  hated  Congress 
from  their  seats,  and  placed  their  beloved  Washing 
ton  on  the  throne  of  St.  Tammany.  Here,  nodoubt, 
the  tempter  fl  ished  the  dangerous  diadem  before  the 
eyes  of  our  Countryman.  But  Religion  at  the  same 
time,  pointed  him  to  the  GREAT  LOVER  OF  ORDER, 
h  >lding  up  th.it  crown,  in  comparison  of  which  the 
diadems  of  kings  are  but  dross.  Animated  with  such 
hopes  he  had  long  cherished  that  ardent  philanthro 
py  which  sighs  for  liberty  to  all  countries,  and  es 
pecially  to  his  own.  For  Liberty  he  had  fought  and 
c  mquered  ;  and  now  considered  it,  with  all  its  bless 
ings,  as  at  hand.  u  Tet  a  little  while,  and  America 
14  shall  become  the  glory  of  the  earth — a  nation  of 
u  Brothers,  enjoying  the  golden  reign  of  equal  laws, 
<4  and  rejoicing  under  their  own  vine  and  fig-tree, 
44  and  no  tyrant  to  make  them  afraid.  And  shall 
44  these  glorious  prospects  be  darkened  ?  shall  they 
*4  be  dance-lied  by  WASHINGTON  !  shall  he,  ever  the 
u  friend  of  his  country,  become  her  bitterest  enemy, 
44  by  fixing  upon  her  again  the  iron  yoke  ot  monar- 
44  chy  ?  shall  he  !  the  Father  of  his  army,  become 
44  their  assassin,  by  establishing  a  government  that 
44  sh.ill  swallow  up  their  liberties  forever?" 

THE  id-a  filled  his  s  ul  with  horror.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  tamely  yielding  to  the  wishes  of  his  ar 
my  to  their  oivn  rum,  he  bravely  opposes  them  to 
their  \.r\\t  good:  and  instead  of  drinking  in,  with  trai 
torous  smile,  the  hosaunas  that  would  have  made 
hi  ai  king,  he  darkens  his  brow  of  parental  displeasure 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  121 

at  their  impiety.  He  flies  to  extinguish  their  rising 
rebellion.  He  addresses  letters  to  the  officers  of  the 
army,  desiring  them  to  meet  him  at  an  appointed 
time  and  place.  Happily  lor  America,  the  voice  of 
Washington  still  sounded  in  their  ears,  as  the  voice  of 
a  father.  His  officers,  to  a  man,  all  gathered  around 
him;  while,  with  a  countenance  inspiring  veneration 
and  love,  he  arose  and  addressed  the  eager-listening 
chiefs.  He  began  with  reminding  them  of  the  great 
object  for  which  they  had  first  drawn  their  swords, 
i.  e.  THE  LIBERTY  OF  THEIR  COUNTRY.  He  ap 
plauded  that  noble  spirit  with  which  they  had  sub 
mitted  to  so  many  privations — combated  so  many 
dangers — and  overcome  so  many  difficulties.  And 
now,  said  he,  after  having  thus  waded,  like  Israel  of 
old,  through  a  Red  Sea  of  blood,  and  withstood  the 
thundering  Sinais  of  British  fury;  after  having  crush 
ed  the  fiery  serpents  of  Indian  rifles,  and  trampled 
down  those  insidious  Amalekites,  the  tories — after 
having  travelled  through  a  howling  wilderness  of 
war,  and,  with  the  ark  of  your  country's  liberties  in 
camp,  safely  arrived  on  the  borders  of  Canaan,  and  in 
sight  of  the  glorious  end  of  all  your  labours,  will 
you  now  give  yourselves  up  the  dupes  of  a  u  Britisi 
tmissar^_"  and  for  the  sordid  flesh-pots  of  a  few 
months'  pay,  rush  into  civil  war,  and  fall  back  to  a 
worse  than  Egyptian  bondage  ?  No  !  my  brave  coun 
trymen:  I  trust  you  will  not :  I  trust,  that  an  army  so 
famed  throughout  the  world  for  patriotism,  will  yet 
maintain  its  reputation.  1  trust,  that  your  behaviour 
on  this  last,  this  most  trying  occasion,  will  fill  up  the 
measure  of  your  heroism,  and  stamp  the  American 
character  with  never-dying  fame.  You  have  achiev 
ed  miracles.  But  a  greater  miracle  still  remains  to 
be  achieved.  We  have  had  the  glory  to  conquer  our 
enemies ;  now  for  the  greater  glory  to  conquer  our 
selves.  Other  armies,  after  subduing  the  enemies 
of  their  country,  have  themselves,  for  power  and  plun 
der,  become  her  tyrants,  and  trampled  her  liberties 
under  foot.  Be  it  our  nobler  ambition,  after  suffer- 
M 


122  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ings  unparalleled  for  our  needy  country,  to  return 
cheerful,  though  pennyless,  to  our  homes;  and  pa 
tiently  wait  the  rewards  which  her  gratitude  will, 
one  day,  assuredly  bestow.  In  the  mean  time,  beating 
our  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  our  bayonets  into 
reaping  hooks,  let  us,  as  peaceful  citizens,  cultivate 
those  fields  from  which,  as  victorious  soldiers,  we 
lately  drove  the  enemy.  Thence,  as  from  the  noblest 
of  theatres,  you  will  display  a  spectacle  of  patriot 
ism  never  seen  before.  You  will  teach  the  delight 
ed  world,  that  men  are  capable  of  finding  a  heaven  in 
noble  actions :  and  you  will  give  occasion  to  posterity 
to  say,  when  speaking  of  your  present  behaviour, 
had  this  day  been  wanting,  the  triumph  of  our  fa 
thers'  virtues  would  have  been  incomplete." 

As  he  spoke,  his  cheeks,  naturally  pale,  were  red 
dened  over  with  virtue's  pure  vermilion:  while  his 
eyes,  of  ccerulean  blue,  were  kindled  up  with  those 
indescribable  fires  which  fancy  lends  to  an  angel  ora 
tor,  animating  poor  mortals  to  the  sublimest  of  god- 
-r>  deeds.  His  words  were  not  in  vain.  From  lips 
of  wisdom,  and  long-tried  love,  like  his,  such  counsel 
wrought  as  though  an  oracle  had  spoken.  Instantly 
a  committee  of  the  whole  was  formed,  with  general 
Knox  at  their  head,  who,  in  thirty  minutes,  ^ported 
the  following  resolutions,  which  were  untfiJmously 
adopted : 

"  RESOLVED — that  having  engaged  in  the  war 
"  from  motives  of  the  purest  love  and  zeal  for  the 
u  rights  of  man,  no  circumstance  of  distress  or  dan- 
"  ger  shall  ever  induce  us  to  sully  the  glory  we  have 
"  acquired  at  the  price  of  our  blood,  and  eight  years' 
"  faithful  service. 

"  RESOLVED— -that  we  continue  to  have  an  unsha- 
u  ken  confidence  in  the  justice  of  congress  and  our 
u  country. 

"  RESOLVED — that  we  view  with  abhorrence,  and 
u  reject  with  disdain,  the  infamous  proposition  con- 
u  tained  in  a  late  anonymous  address  to  the 
"  of  the  armv." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  123 

THE  officers  then  hasted  back  to  their  troops,  who 
had  been  impatiently  expecting  them ;  and  related 
Washington's  speech.  They  also  stated  as  his  firm 
conviction,  that  u  the  claims  of  every  soldier  would 
u  be  liquidated  ;  his  accounts  accurately  ascertained; 
"  and  adequate  funds  provided  for  the  payment  of 
"  them,  as  soon  as  the  circumstances  of  the  nation 
"  would  permit." 

THE  soldiers  listened  to  this  communication  with 
attention ;  and  heard  the  close  of  it  without  a  mur 
mur.  "  They  had  no  great  opinion,  they  said,  of  con 
gress — but  having  gone  such  lengths  for  duty  and 
old  George,  they  supposed  they  might  as  weU  now 
go  a  little  farther,  and  make  thorough  work  of  it.  A 
little  pay  would,  to  be  sure,  have  been  very  welcome  : 
and  it  was  a  poor  military  chest  that  could  not  afford 
a  single  dollar,  especially  as  some  of  them  had  hun 
dreds  of  miles  to  their  homes.  But  surely  the  peo 
ple  won't  let  us  starve  for  a  meal's  victuals  by  the 
way,  especially  after  we  have  been  so  long  fighting 
their  battles.  So,  in  God's  name,  we'll  even  shoul 
der  our  knapsacks,  whenever  our  old  general  shall 
say  the  word." 

THE  next  day  the  breaking  up  of  the  army  began, 
which  was  conducted  in  the  following  manner:  The 
troops  after  breakfast  were  ordered  under  arms.  On 
receiving  notice  that  they  were  ready  to  move,  Wash 
ington  with  his  aids,  rode  out  on  the  plains  of  their 
encampment,  where  he  sat  on  his  horse  awaiting  their 
arrival.  The  troops  got  in  motion,  and  with  fifes 
and  muffled  drums  playing  the  mournful  air  of  JRos- 
lin  Castle,  marched  up  for  the  last  time,  into  his 
presence.  Every  countenance  was  shrouded  in  sor 
row.  At  a  signal  given,  they  grounded  their  arms. 
Then,  waving  their  hats,  and  faintly  crying  out  "  God 
save  great  Washington"  through  watery  eyes  they 
gave  him  a  long  adieu,  and  wheeled  off  in  files  for 
their  native  homes.  With  pensive  looks  his  eye  pur 
sued  them  as  they  retired,  wide  spreading  over  the 
fields.  But  when  he  saw  those  brave  troops  who  had 
so  long  obevd  him,  and  who  had  just  given  such  an 


124  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

evidence  of  their  affection — when  he  saw  them  slow 
ly  descending  behind  the  distant  hills,  shortly  to  dis 
appear  for  ever,  then  nature  stirred  all  the  father 
within  him,  and  gave  him  up  to  tears.  But  he  wept 
not  "  as  these  without  hope"  He  rejoiced  in  the 
remembrance  of  HIM  who  treasures  up  the  toils  of 
the  virtuous,  and  will,  one  day,  bestow  that  reward 
which  u  this  -world  cannot  give" 

BUT  the  whole  army  was  not  disbanded  at  once. 
Shortly  after  this  he  went  down  to  New- York  to 
finish  what  remained  of  his  duty  as  commander  in 
chief,  and  to  prepare  to  return  home.  On  the  last 
day  that  he  was  there,  it  being  known  that  he  meant 
to  set  out  for  Virginia  at  one  o'clock,  all  his  officers, 
who  happened  to  be  in  town,  assembled  at  Francis's 
tavern,  where  he  lodged,  to  bid  him  a  last  farewell. 
About  half  after  twelve  the  general  entered  the 
room,  where  an  elegant  collation  was  spread  :  but 
none  tasted  it.  Conversation  was  attempted :  but  it 
failed.  As  the  clock  struck  one,  the  general  went 
to  the  side-board,  and  filling  out  some  wine,  turned 
to  his  officers,  and  begged  they  would  join  him  in  a 
glass.  Then,  with  a  look  of  sorrow  and  a  faltering 
voice,  he  said,  "  Well  my  brave  brothers  in  arms,  we 

"  part perhaps  to  meet  in  this  life  no  more.  And 

"  now  I  pray  God  to  take  you  all  in  his  holy  keeping, 
u  and  render  your  latter  days  as  prosperous  as  the 
u  past  have  been  glorious." 

SOON  as  they  had  drunk,  he  beckoned  to  general 
Knox,  who  approached  and  pressed  his  hand  in  tears 
of  delicious  silence.  The  officers  all  followed  his 
example ;  while  their  manly  cheeks,  swollen  with 
grief,  bespoke  sensations  too  strong  for  utterance. 
This  tender  scene  being  over,  he  moved  towards  the 
door,  followed  by  his  officers.  By  this  time  the  street 
from  the  hotel  to  the  river  was  filled  with  light  in 
fantry,  and  thousands  of  citizens,  who  all  attended 
him  in  silence  to  the  water-side,  where  he  was  to 
take  boat.  Here  another  pleasing  proof  of  esteem 
was  given  him.  Instead  of  the  common  ferry  boat,  a 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  125 

barge  magnificently  decorated,  was  reaciy  to  receive 
him,  with  the  American  jack  and  colors  flying,  and 
manned  with  thirteen  sea  captains,  all  in  elegant 
blue  uniforms.  On  stepping  aboard  the  barge,  he 
turned  towards  the  people,  who  stood  in  vast  crowds 
on  the  shore ;  and  waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent 
adieu,  which  they  in  like  solemn  manner  returned, 
all  waving  their  hats,  and  without  speaking  a  word. 
Having  received  their  honoured  freight,  the  sons  of 
Neptune,  ready  with  well  poised  oars,  leap  forward 
to  the  coxswain's  call ;  then,  all  at  once  falling  back, 
with  sudden  stroke  they  flash  their  bending  blades 
into  the  yielding  flood.  Swift  at  their  stroke  the 
barge  sprung  from  the  shore ;  and,  under  the  music 
of  echoing  row-locks,  flew  through  the  waves,  fol 
lowed  by  the  eager  gaze  of  the  pensive  thousands. 
The  sighing  multitude  then  turned  away  from  the 
shore  with  feelings  whose  source  they  did  not,  per 
haps,  understand.  But  some,  on  returning  to  their 
homes,  spoke  to  their  listening  children  of  what 
they  had  seen,  and  of  the  honours  which  belong  to 
such  virtue  as  Washington's. 

HE  lodged  that  night  at  Elizabethtown,  fifteen: 
miles  from  New- York.  The  next  morning,  elate  with 
thoughts  of  home,  he  ascended  his  chariot ;  and  with 
bounding  steeds  drove  on  his  way  through  the  lovely 
country  of  New-Jersey.  This  no  doubt,  was  the 
pleasantest  ride  by  far  that  he  had  known  since  the 
dark  days  of  '75.  For  though  joyless  winter  was 
spread  abroad  with  her  cold  clouds,  and  winds  shrill 
whistling  over  the  flowerless  fields  ;  yet  to  his  pa 
triot  eye  the  face  of  nature  shone  brighter  than  in 
latter  years,  when  clad  in  springtide  green  and  gold 
— for  it  was  covered  over  with  the  bright  mantle  of 
peace.  His  shoulders  were  freed  from  the  burden  of 
public  cares,  and  his  heart  from  the  anxieties  of  su 
preme  command.  With  a  father's  joy  he  couia  IOOK 
around  on  the  thick  settled  country,  with  all  its 
little  ones,  and  flocks,  and  herds,  now  no  longer  ex 
posed  to  danger. 

M  2 


126  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

*'  Happy  farmers !  the  long  winter  of  war  is  past 
and  gone — the  spring  time  of  PEACE  is  returned,  and 
the  voice  of  her  dove  is  heard  in  our  land.  Restore 
your  wasted  farms.  Spread  abroad  the  fertilizing 
manure  :  and  prepare  again  to  crown  your  war  worn 
fields  with  joyful  crops." 

"  HAPPY  children  !  now  pour  forth  again  in  safety 
to  your  schools.  Treasure  up  the  golden  knowledge; 
and  make  yourselves  the  future  glory  and  guardians 
of  your  country." 

HAPPY  citizens  !  hasten  to  rebuild  the  ruined 
temples  of  your  God.  And  lift  your  glad  songs  to 
HIM,  the  great  ruler  of  war,  who  aided  your  feeble 
arms,  and  trampled  down  the  mighty  enemy  beneath 
your  feet." 

BUT  often,  amidst  these  happy  thoughts,  the 
swift-wheeled  chariot  would  bring  him  in  view  of 
fields  on  which  his  bleeding  memory  could  not  dwell 
without  a  tear — "  There  the  battling  armies  met  in 
thunder.  The  stormy  strife  was  short.  But  yonder 
mournful  hillocks  point  the  place  where  many  of  our 
brave  heroes  sleep  ;  perhaps  some  good  angel  has 
whispered  that  their  fall  was  not  in  vain." 

ON  his  journey  homewards,  he  stopped  for  a  mo 
ment  at  Philadelphia,  to  do  an  act,  \vhich  to  a  mind 
proudly  honest  like  his,  must  have  been  a  sublime 
treat.  He  stopped  to  present  to  the  comptroller-ge 
neral  an  account  of  all  the  public  monies  which  he 
had  spent.  Though  this  account  was  in  his  own 
hand  writing,  and  accompanied  with  the  proper 
vouchers,  yet  it  will  hardly  be  credited  by  European 
statesmen  and  generals,  that,  in  the  course  of  an  eight 
years  war,  he  had  spent  only  12,497/.8«y.9<£  sterling!  ! 

FROM  Philadelphia  he  hastened  on  to  Annapolis, 
where  congress  was  then  in  session,  that  he  might 
return  to  that  honourable  body  the  commission  with 
which  they  had  entrusted  him. 

HAVING  'always  disliked  parade,  he  wished  to  make 
ms  resignation  in  writing.  But  congress,  it  seems, 
willed  otherwise.  To  see  a  man  voluntarily  giving 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  1 27 

up  power,  was  SL  spectatcle  not  to  be  met  with  every 
day.  And  that  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of  see 
ing  him  in  this  last,  and  perhaps  greatest,  act  of  his 
public  life,  they  expressed  a  wish  to  receive  his  re 
signation  from  his  own  hand  at  a  full  audience.  The 
next  day,  the  23d  of  December,  1783,  was  appointed 
for  the  purpose.  At  an  early  hour  the  house  was 
crowded.  The  members  of  congress,  with  the  gran 
dees  of  the  land,  filled  the  floors.  The  ladies  sparkled 
in  the  galleries.  At  eleven  o'clock,  Washington  was 
ushered  into  the  house,  and  conducted  to  a  seat  which 
had  been  prepared  for  him,  covered  with  red  velvet. 
After  a  becoming  pause,  and  information  given  by 
the  president,  that  the  United  States  in  congress 
assembled  were  ready  to  receive  his  communication, 
he  arose  ;  and  with  great  brevity  and  modesty  obser 
ved,  that  he  had  presented  himself  before  them,  to  re 
sign  into  their  hands  with  satisfaction  the  commission 
which,  eight  years  before,  he  had  accepted  with  diffi 
dence.  He  begged  to  offer  them  his  sincerest  con 
gratulations  for  the  glorious  result  of  their  uni 
ted  struggles  ;  took  no  part  of  the  praise  to  him 
self;  but  ascribed  all  to  the  blessing  of  Heaven  on 
the  exertions  of  the  nation.  Then  fervently  com 
mending  his  dearest  country  to  the  protection  of  Al 
mighty  God,  he  bade  them  an  affectionate  farewell  ; 
and  taking  leave  of  all  the  employments  of  public 
life,  surrendered  up  his  commission  ! 

SELDOM  has  there  been  exhibited  so  charming  a 
display  of  the  power  which  pre-eminent  virtue  pos 
sesses  over  the  human  heart,  as  on  this  occasion. 
Short  and  simple  as  was  the  speech  of  Washington, 
yet  it  seems  to  have  carried  back  every  trembling 
imagination  to  the  fearful  days  of  '75,  when  the  Bri 
tish  fleets  and  armies  were  thundering  on  our  coasts, 
and  when  nothing  was  talked  of  but  slavery,  confis 
cation,  and  executions.  And  now  they  saw  before 
them  the  man  to  whom  they  all  looked  for  safety  in 
that  gloomy  time — who  had  completely  answered 
their  fond  hopes — who  had  stood  hv  them  incorrup- 


128  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

tible  and  unshaken — had  anticipated  their  mighty  ene 
my  in  all  his  plans— had  met  him  at  every  point — had 
thwarted,  defeated,  and  blasted  all  his  hopes — and, 
victory  after  victory  won,  had  at  length  laid  his 'strong 
legions  in  dust  or  in  chains — and  had  secured  to  his 
country  a  glorious  independence,  with  the  fairest 
chance  of  being  one  of  the  most  respectable  and  hap 
py  nations  of  the  earth — and,  in  consequence  of  all 
this,  had  so  completely  won  the  hearts  of  his  army 
and  his  nation,  that  he  could  perhaps  have  made  him 
self  their  master.  At  all  events,  a  Caesar  or  a  Crom 
well  would,  at  the  hazard  of  a  million  of  lives,  made 
the  sacrilegious  attempt.  Yet  they  now  saw  this  man 
scorning  to  abuse  his  power  to  the  degradation  of  his 
country, — but  on  the  contrary,  treating  her  with  the 
most  sacred  respect— dutifully  bowing  before  her 
delegated  presence,  the  congress — cheerfully  return 
ing  the  commission  she  had  entrusted  him  with— 
piously  laying  down  his  extensive  powers  at  her 
feet — and  modestly  falling  back  into  the  humble  con 
dition  of  the  rest  of  her  children.  The  sight  of  their 
great  countryman,  already  so  beloved,  and  now  acting 
so  generous,  so  godlike  a  part,  produced  an  effect 
beyond  the  power  of  words  to  express.  Their  feel 
ings  of  admiration  and  affection  were  too  delicious, 
too  big  for  utterance.  Every  countenance  was  swollen 
with  sentiment :  and  delicious  tears  moistened  every 
eye,  which,  though  a  silent,  was  perhaps  the  richest 
offering  of  veneration  and  esteem  ever  paid  to  a  hu 
man  being. 

HAVING  discharged  this  last  great  debt  to  his  coun 
try,  the  next  morning,  early,  he  ascended  his  chariot; 
and  listened  with  joy  to  the  rattling  wheels,  nov/  run 
ning  off  his  last  day's  journey  to  Mount  Vernon.  Ah ! 
could  gloomy  tyrants  but  feel  what  Washington  felt 
that  day,  when,  sweeping  along  the  road,  with  grateful 
heart,  he  revolved  the  mighty  work  which  he  had 
finished — his  country  saved  and  his  conscience  clear; 
they  would  tear  off  the  accursed  purple,  and,  starting 
rfom  their  blood-stain-ed  thrones,  like  Washington, 
seek  true  hapoiness  in  making  others  happy. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

O  WASHINGTON!  thrice  glorious  name, 

What  due  rewards  can  man  decree  ? 

Empires  are  far  below  thy  aim, 

And  sceptres  have  no  charms  for  thee ; 

Duty  alone  has  thy  regard, 

In  her  thou  seek'st  thy  great  reward. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Washington  again  on  his  farm — sketch  of  his  conduct 
the-re — suggests  the  importance  of  inland  naviga 
tion — companies  forming — urges  a  reform  of  the 
old  constitution — appointed  President  of  the  Unit 
ed  States — great  difficulties  to  encounter  —glori 
ously  surmounts  them. 

TO  be  happy  in  every  situation  is  a  proof  of  wis 
dom  seldom  afforded  by  man.  It  proves  that  the 
icart  is  set  on  that  which  alone  can  ever  completely 
satisfy  it,  i.  e.  the  imitation  of  God  in  benevolent 
ind  useful  life.  This  was  the  happy  case  with  Wash- 
ngton.  To  establish  in  his  country  the  golden  reign 
)f  liberty  is  his  grand  wish.  In  the  accomplishment 
)f  this  he  seeks  his  happiness.  He  abhors  war ;  but, 
if  war  be  necessary,  to  this  end  he  bravely  encoun 
ters  it.  His  ruling  passion  must  be  obeyed.  He 
jeat  his  ploughshare  into  a  sword,  and  exchanged 
;he  peace  and  pleasures  of  his  farm  for  the  din  and 
dangers  of  the  camp.  Having  won  the  great  prize 
for  which  he  contended,  he  returns  to  his  plough. 
His  military  habits  are  laid  by  with  the  same  ease  as 
ic  would  throw  off  an  old  coat.  The  camp  with  all 
its  parade  and  noise,  is  forgotten.  He  awakes,  in 
lis  silent  chambers  at  Mount  Vernon,  without  sigh- 
ng  for  the  sprightly  drums  and  fifes  that  used  to  sa- 


130  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

lute  him  every  morning.  Happy  among  his  domes 
tics,  he  does  not  regret  the  shining  ranks  of  patriot 
soldiers  that  used  to  pay  him  homage.  The  useful  ci 
tizen  is  the  high  character  he  wishes  to  act — his  sword 
turned  into  a  ploughshare  is  his  favourite  instrument; 
and  his  beloved  farm  his  stage.  Agriculture  had  been 
always  his  delight.  To  breathe  the  pure  healthful  air 
of  a.  farm,  perfumed  with  odorous  flowers,  and  enrich 
ed  with  golden  harvests,  and  with  numerous  flocks  and 
herds,  appeared  to  him  a  life  nearest  connected  with 
individual  and  national  happiness.  To  this  great  ob 
ject  he  turns  all  his  attention — bends  all  his  exertions. 
He  writes  to  the  most  skilful  farmers,  not  only  in 
America,  but  in  England  (for  Washington  was  inca 
pable  of  bearing  malice  against  a  people  who  had 
been  reconciled  to  his  country ;)  he  writes,  I  say,  to 
the  ablest  farmers  in  America  and  England,  for  in 
structions  how  best  to  cultivate  and  improve  his 
lands—what  grains,  what  grasses,  what  manures 
would  best  suit  his  soils ;  what  shrubs  are  fittest  for 
fences,  and  what  animals  for  labour. 

BUT,  to  a  soul  large  and  benevolent  like  his,  to 
beautify  his  own  farm,  and  to  enrich  his  own  family, 
seemed  like  doing  nothing.  To  see  the  whole  nation 
engaged  in  glorious  toils,  filling  themselves  with 
plenty,  and  inundating  the  sea  ports  with  food  and  rai 
ment  for  the  poor  and  needy  of  distant  nations — this 
was  his  godlike  ambition.  But,  knowing  that  his  be 
loved  countrymen  could  not  long  enjoy  the  honour 
and  advantage  of  such  glorious  toils,  unless  they  could 
easily  convey  their  swelling  harvests  to  their  own 
markets,  he  hastened  to  rouse  them  to  a  proper  sense 
of  the  infinite  importance  of  forming  canals  and  cuts 
between  all  the  fine  rivers  that  run  through  the  Uni 
ted  States.  To  give  the  greater  weight  to  his  coun 
sel,  he  had  first  ascended  the  sources  of  those  great 
rivers — ascertained  the  distance  between  them — the 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  navigation — and  the  probable 
expence  of  removing  them. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  131 

AGREEABLE  to  his  wishes,  two  wealthly  companies 
were  soon  formed  to  extend  the  navigation  of  James 
River  and  Potomac,  the  noblest  rivers  in  Virginia. 
Struck  with  the  exceeding  benefit  which  both  them 
selves  and  their  country  would  speedily  derive  from  a 
plan  which  he  had  not  only  suggested,  but  had  ta 
ken  such  pains  and  expence  to  recommend,  they 
pressed  him  to  accept  one  hundred  and  fifty  shares  of 
the  company's  stock,  amounting  to  near  40,000  dol 
lars  !  But  he  instantly  refused  it,  saying,  u  what  will 
"  the  world  think  if  they  should  hear  that  I  have 
"  taken  40,000  dollars  for  this  affair  ?  Will  they  not 
"  be  apt  to  suspect,  on  my  next  proposition,  that  mo- 
u  ney  is  my  motive  ?  Thus,  for  the  sake  of  money, 
"  which  indeed  I  neve^  coveted  from  my  country,  I 
"  may  lose  the  power  to  do  her  some  service,  which 
"  may  be  worth  more  than  all  money  !  !" 

BUT,  while  engaged  in  this  goodly  work,  he  was 
suddenly  alarmed  by  the  appearance  of  an  evil,  which 
threatened  to  put  an  end  to  all  his  well-meant  labours 
for  ever — this  was,  the  incipient  dissolution  of  the 
federal  government ! !  The  framers  of  that  fair  but 
flimsy  fabric,  having  put  it  together  according  to 
the  square  and  compass  of  equal  rights  and  mutual 
interests,  thought  they  had  done  enough.  The  good 
sense  and  virtue  of  the  nation,  it  was  supposed,  would 
form  a  foundation  of  rock  whereon  it  would  safe 
ly  rest,  in  spite  of  all  commotions,  foreign  or  do-> 
mestic. 

"  BUT,  alas  !"  said  Washington,  "  experience  has 
shown,  that  men,  unless  constrained,  will  seldom  do 
what  is  lor  their  own  good.  With  joy  I  once  beheld 
my  country  feeling  the  liveliest  sense  of  her  rights, 
and  maintaining  them  with  a  spirit  apportioned  to 
their  worth.  With  joy  I  have  seen  all  the  wise  men 
of  Europe  looking  on  her  with  admiration,  and  all  the 
good  with  hope,  that  her  fair  example  would  rege 
nerate  the  old  world,  and  restore  the  blessings  of 
equal  government  to  long  oppressed  HUMANITY.  But 
alas  !  in  place  of  maintaining  this  glorious  attitude, 


132  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

America  is  herself  rushing  into  disorder  and  disso 
lution.  We  have  powers  sufficient  for  self-defence 
and  glory  ;  but  those  powers  are  not  exerted.  For 
fear  congress  should  abuse  it,  the  people  will  not 
trust  their  power  with  congress.  Foreigners  insult 
and  injure  us  with  impunity  ;  for  congress  has  no 
power  to  chastise  them. — Ambitious  men  stir  up 
factions.  Congress  possesses  no  power  to  coerce 
them.  Public  creditors  call  for  their  money.  Con 
gress  has  no  power  to  collect  it.  In  short,  we  can 
not  long  subsist  as  a  nation,  without  lodging  some 
where  a  power  that  may  command  the  full  energies 
of  the  nation  for  defence  from  all  its  enemies,  and 
for  the  supply  of  all  its  wants.  The  people  will  soon 
fee  tired  of  such  a  government.  They  will  sigh  for  a 
change  :  and  many  of  them  already  begin  to  talk  of 
monarchy,  without  horror  !" 

IN  this,  as  in  all  cases  of  apprehended  danger,  his 
pen  knew  no  rest.  The  leading  characters  of  the 
nation  were  roused  :  and  a  CONVENTION  was  formed, 
of  deputies  from  the  several  states,  to  revise  and 
amend  the  general  government.  Of  this  convention 
Washington  was  unanimously  chosen  president. — 
Their  session  commenced  in  Philadelphia,  May,  1787, 
and  ended  in  October.  The  fruit  of  their  six  months 
labour  was  the  present  excellent  CONSTITUTION, 
which  was  no  sooner  adopted,  than  the  eyes  of  the 
whole  nation  were  fixed  on  him  for  president. 

BEING  now  in  his  57th  year,  and  wedded  to  his 
farm  and  family,  he  had  no  wish  to  enter  again  into 
the  cares  and  dangers  of  public  life.  Kase  was  now 
become  almost  as  necessary  as  it  was  dear  to  him. 
His  reputation  was  already  at  the  highest ;  and  as  to 
money,  in  the  service  of  his  country  he  had  always* 
refused  it.  These  things  considered,  together  with 
his  acknowledged  modesty  and  disinterestedness, 
we  can  hardly  doubt  the  correctness  of  his  declaration, 
that,  "  the  call  to  the  magistracy  was  the  most  un 
welcome  he  had  ever  heard." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  133 

HOWEVER,  as  soon  as  it  was  officially  notified  to 
him,  in  thti  spring  ot"  1789,  that  he  was  unani  mmsly 
elected  President  of  the  United  States,  and  that  Con 
gress,  then  sitting  in  New- York,  was  impatient  to  see 
him  in  the  chair,  he  set  out  for  that  city.  Then  all 
along  the  roads  where  he  passed,  were  seen  the  most 
charming  proofs  of  that  enthusiasm  with  which  the 
hearts  of  all  delighted  to  honour  him.  If  it  was  only 
said,  "General  Washington  is  coming"  it  was  enough. 
The  inhabitants  all  hastened  from  their  houses  to  the 
highways,  to  have  a  sight  of  their  great  countryman ; 
while  the  people  of  the  towns,  hearing  of  his  approach, 
sallied  out,  horse  and  foot,  to  meet  him.  In  eager 
throngs,  men,  women,  and  children  pressed  upon  his 
steps,  as  waves  in  crowding  ridges  pursue  the  course 
of  a  ship  through  the  ocean.  And  as  a  new  succes 
sion  of  waves  is  ever  ready  to  take  the  place  of  those 
which  have  just  ended  their  chase  in  playful  foam, 
so  it  was  with  the  ever-gathering  crowds  that  fol 
lowed  their  Washington. 

44  On  reaching  the  western  banks  of  Schuylkill," 
said  a  gentleman  who  was  present,  u  I  was  astonished 
44  at  the  concourse  of  people  that  overspread  the  coun- 
44  try,  apparently  from  Gray's  ferry  to  the  city.  In- 
44  deed  one  would  have  thought  that  the  whole  popu- 
44  lation  of  Philadelphia  was  come  out  to  meet  him. 
'*  And  to  see  so  many  thousands  of  people  on  foot, 
44  on  horseback,  and  in  coaches,  all  voluntarily  wait- 
*4  ing  upon  and  moving  along  with  one  man,  struck 
44  me  with  strangely  agreeable  sensations.  Surely, 
44  thought  I,  there  must  be  a  divinity  in  goodness, 
44  that  mankind  should  thus  delight  to  honour  it." 

His  reception  at  Trenton  was  more  than  flattering. 
It  was  planned,  they  said,  by  the  ladies,  and  indeed 
bore  marks  that  it  could  have  been  done  only  by 
them.  The  reader  must  remember,  that  it  was  near 
this  place  that  the  fair  sex  in  '76  suffered  such  cruel 
indignities  from  the  enemy;  anH  that  it  was  here 
that  Providence  in  the  same  year  enabled  Washing 

N 


134  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ton  so  severely  to  chastise  them  for  it.  The  women 
are  not  apt  to  forget  their  benefactors.  Hearing  that 
Washington  was  on  his  way  to  Trenton,  they  instantly 
held  a  caucus  among  themselves,  to  devise  ways  and 
means  to  display  their  gratitude  to  him.  Under  their 
direction,  the  bridge  over  the  Sanpink,  (a  narrow 
creek  running  through  Trenton,  upon  whose  opposite 
banks  Washington  and  the  British  once  fought,)  was 
decorated  with  a  triumphal  arch,  with  this  inscription 
in  large  figures : 

DECEMBER  26,  1776. 

THE  HERO  WHO  DEFENDED  THE  MO 
THERS,  WILL  ALSO  PROTECT 
THE  DAUGHTERS. 

HE  approached  the  bridge  on  its  south  side,  amidst 
the  heartiest  shouts  of  congratulating  thousands;  while 
on  the  north  side  were  drawn  up  several  hundreds  of 
little  girls,  dressed  in  snow-white  robes,  with  temples 
adorned  with  garlands,  and  baskets  of  flowers  on  their 
arms.  Just  behind  them  stood  long  rows  of  young  vir 
gins,  whose  fair  faces,  of  sweetest  red  and  white, high 
ly  animated  by  the  occasion,  looked  quite  angelic — 
and,  behind  them,  in  crowds,  stood  their  venerable 
mothers.  As  Washington  slowly  drove  off  the  bridge, 
the  female  voices  all  began,  sweet  as  the  first  wakings 
wr  the  Eolian  harp :  and  thus  they  rolled  the  song : 

44  Welcome,  mighty  chief!  once  more 
44  Welcome  to  this  grateful  shore. 
44  Now  no  mercenary  foe 
44  Aims  again  the  fatal  blow, 
44  Aims  at  thee  the  fatal  blow. 

44  Virgins  fair,  and  matrons  grave, 
44  (These  thy  conquering  arm  did  save !) 
14  Build  for  thee  triumphal  bowers. 
4  Strew,  ye  fair,  his  way  with  flowers ; 
Strew  your  hero's  way  with  flowers.** 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  135 

WHILE  singing  the  last  lines,  they  strewed  the  way 
with  flowers  before  him. 

SOME  have  said  that  they  could  see  in  his  altered 
looks,  that  he  remembered  the  far  different  scenes  of 
'76 ;  for  that  they  saw  him  wipe  a  tear.  No  doubt 
'twas  the  sweet  tear  of  gratitude  to  him  who  had  pre 
served  him  to  see  this  happy  day. 

AT  New-York  the  behaviour  of  the  citizens  was 
equally  expressive  of  the  general  veneration  and  es 
teem.  The  ships  in  the  harbour  were  all  dressed  in 
their  flags  and  streamers ;  and  the  wharves  where  he 
landed  were  rchly  decorated.  At  the  water's  edge 
he  was  received  by  an  immense  concourse  of  the 
joyful  citizens  ;  and,  amidst  the  mingled  thunder  of 
guns  and  acclamations,  was  conducted  to  his  lodg 
ings.  Such  honours  would  have  intoxicated  most 
men  :  but  to  a  mind  like  his,  habitually  conversant 
with  the  far  sublimer  subjects  of  the  Christian  philo 
sophy,  they  must  have  looked  quite  puerile.  Indeed 
it  appears  from  a  note  made  in  his  journal  that  very 
evening,  that  he  regarded  all  these  marks  of  public 
favour  rather  as  calls  to  humility  than  pride.  u  The 
44  display  of  aoats  on  this  occasion,"  says  he,  "  with 
44  vocal  and  instrumental  music  on  board,  the  deco- 
44  rations  of  the  ships,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the 
44  loud  acclamations  of  the  people,  as  I  passed  along 
44  the  wharves,  gave  me  as  much  pain  as  pleasure, 
44  contemplating  the  probable  reverse  of  this  scene 
44  after  all  my  endeavours  to  do  good." 

IT  was  on  the  23d  of  April,  1789,  that  he  arrived 
in  New-York  :  and  on  the  30th,  after  taking  the  oath, 
as  president  of  the  United  States,  to  preserve,  pro 
tect,  and  defend  the  constitution,  he  entered  upon  the 
duties  of  his  office. 

As  things  then  stood,  even  his  bitterest  enemies,  if 
he  had  any,  might  have  said,  "  happy  man  be  his  dole!" 
for  he  came  to  the  helm  in  a  perilous  and  fearful  sea 
son.  Like  chaos, u  in  the  olden  time,"  our  government 
was  "-without  form  and  void:  and  darkness  dwelt  upon 
the  face  of  the  deep."  Enemies  innumerable  threatened 


*36  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

the  rountry,  both  from  within  and  without,  abroad 
and  at  home — the  people  of  three  continents  at  dag 
gers  drawn  with  the  young  republic  of  America  ! 

THE  pirates  of  Morocco  laying  their  uncircumcised 
hands  on  our  rich  commerce  in  the  Mediterranean. 

THE  British  grumbling  and  threatening  war. 

THE  Spaniards  shutting  up  the  Mississippi! 

THE  Kentuckians  in  great  warmth,  threatening  to 
break  the  union,  and  join  the  Spaniards  ! 

THE  Indian  nations,  from  Canada  to  Georgia,  un- 
burying  the  tomahawk  ! 

NORTH-CAROLINA  and  Rhode-Islard,  blowing  on 
the  confederacy !  strong  parties  in  other  states  against 
it! — and  an  alarming  insurrection  in  Massachusetts! 
"While,  to  combat  all  these  enemies,  the  United  States 
had  but  60O  regular  troops  ! !  and,  though  eighty  mil 
lions  of  dollars  in  debt,  they  had  not  one  cent  in  the 
treasury  ! ! !  Here,  certainly,  if  ever,  was  the  time  to 
try  a  man's  soul.  But  Washington  despaired  not. 
Glowing  with  the  love  of  his  country,  and  persuaded 
that  his  country  still  enjoyed  an  opportunity  to  be 
great  and  happy,  he  resolved,  whatever  it  might  cost 
him,  that  nothing  shouM  be  wanting  on  his  part  to 
fill  up  the  measure  of  her  glory.  But  first  of  all,  in 
his  inaugural  speech,  he  called  upon  Congress  and  his 
countrymen,  to  look  up  to  (iocl  for  his  blessing;  next, 
as  to  themselves,  to  be  most  industrious,  honourable, 
and  united,  as  became  men  responsible  to  ages  yet 
unborn,  for  all  the  blessings  of  a  republican  govern 
ment,  7ioiv,  and  perhaps  for  the  last  time,  at  stake,  on 
their  wisdom  and  virtue ; — then  as  to  himself;  "7 
eelC9  said  he,  "  my  incompetency  of  political  skill  and 
abilities.  Integrity  and  firmness  are  all  I  can  promise. 
These,  I  knoiv*  will  nev -r  forsake  me,  although  I  may 
be  deserted  by  all  men:  and  of  the  consolations  to  be 
derived  from  these,  under  no  circumstances  can  the 
•world  ever  deprive  me" — And  last  of  all,  as,  in  a 
crazv  ship  at  sra,  tossed  by  furious  winds,  no  pilot 
can  save  without  the  aid  of  able  seamen,  Washington 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  137 

prudently  rallied  around  him  the  wisest  of  all  his 
countrymen. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  secretary  of  foreign  affairs. 

Col.  Hamilton,  secretary  of  the  treasury. 

Gen.  Knox,  secretary  of  war. 

Edmund  Randolph,  attorney  general. 

John  Jay,  chief  justice. 

John  Rutledge, 

James  Wilson, 

John  Gushing,          j>  Associate  Judges. 

Robert  Harrison, 

John  Blair, 

THESE  judicious  preparations  being  made  for  the 
storm,  (Heaven's  blessing  invoked,  and  the  ablest 
pilots  embarked  with  him,)  Washington  then  seked 
the  helm,  with  a  gallant  hard-a-lee ;  luffed  up  his 
ship  at  once  to  the  gale,  hoping  yet  to  shoot  the 
hideous  gulfs  that  threatened  all  around. 

His  first  attention  was  turned  to  the  call  of  Huma 
nity,  i.  e.  to  satisfy  and  make  peace  with  the  Indians. 
This  was  soon  done ;  partly  by  presents,  and  by  estab 
lishing,  in  their  country,  houses  of  fair  trade,  which, 
by  preventing  frauds,  prevent  those  grudges  that  lead 
to  private  murders,  and  thence  to  public  disturbances 
and  wars.  Some  of  the  Indian  tribes,  despising  these 
friendly  efforts  of  Washington,  were  obliged  to  be 
drubbed  into  peace,  which  service  was  done  for  them 
by  General  Wayne,  in  1794 — but  not  until  many  lives 
had  been  lost  in  preceding'  defeats  ;  owing  chiefly,  it 
was  said,  to  the  very  intemperate  passions  and  pota 
tions  of  some  of  their  officers.  However,  after  the  first 
shock,  the  loss  of  these  poor  souls  was  not  much  la 
mented.  Tall  young  fellows,  who  could  easily  get 
their  half  dollar  a  day  at  the  healthful  and  glorious 
labours  of  the  plough,  to  go  and  enlist  and  rust 
among  the  lice  and  itch  of  a  camp,  for/c?/r  dollars  a 
month,  were  certainly  not  worth  their  country's  crv 
ing  about. 
N2 


138  LIFE  OF  AVASHINGTON. 

WASHINGTON'S  friendly  overtures  to  Spain  were 
frjualh  fortunate.  Believing  that  he  desired  nothing 
but  what  was  perfectly  just,  and  what  both  (iod  and 
man  would  support  him  in,  she  presently  agreed  to 
negotiate*  'I  he  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  was 
given  up.  The  Kentuckians  were  satisfied  :  and 
Spain  and  the  United  States  lived  on  good  terms  all 
the  rest  of  his  days. 

WASHINGTON  then  tried  his  hands  with  the  British. 
But  alas !  he  soon  tound  that  they  were  not  made  of 
such  pliable  stuff  as  the  Indians  and  Spaniards.  Nor 
had  he  the  British  alone  to  complain  of.  He  pre 
sently  found  it  as  hard  to  satisfy  his  oivn  countrymen, 
in  the  matter  of  a  treaty,  as  to  please  them. 

FOR  whether  it  was  that  the  two  nations  still  retain 
ed  a  most  unchristian  recollection  of  what  they  had 
suffered  from  one  another  during  the  past  war — or 
whether,  more  unchristianly  still,  they  felt  the  odioua 
spirit  of  rivals,  and  sickened  at  each  other's  prospe 
rity — or  whether  each  nation  thought  that  the  ships 
of  the  other  were  navigated  by  their  seamen  ;  but  so 
it  was,  that  the  prejudices  of  the  two  people,  though 
sprung  from  the  same  progenitors,  ran  so  high  as  to 
render  it  extremely  difficult  for  Washington  to  settle 
matters  between  them.  But  it  was  at  length  happily 
effected,  without  the  horrors  of  another  war.  Though 
the  treaty  which  brought  about  this  desirable  event 
was  entirely  execrated  by  great  numbers  of  sensible 
and  honest  men  no  doubt,  yet  Washington,  led,  as 
he  says,  by  duty  and  humanity,  ratified  it. 

IF  the  signing  of  the  treaty  displayed  his  firmness, 
the  operation  of  it  has,  perhaps,  shown  his  wisdom. 
For,  surely,  since  that  time,  no  country  like  this  ever 
so  progressed  in  the  public  and  private  blessings  of 
industry,  wealth,  population,  and  morals.  Whether 
greater,  or,  indeed,  equal  blessings  would  have  re 
sulted  from  a  bloody  war  with  England  at  that  time,, 
ct  others  determine. 
BUT  scarcely  had  Washington  got  clear  of  his  em 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  139 

barrassments  with  Britain,  before  still  worse  were 
thrown  in  his  way  by  France. 

THE  cause  was  this.  u  The  French  army,"  as  doc 
tor  Franklin  observes,  "  having  served  an  appren 
ticeship  to  Liberty,  in  America,  on  going  back  to 
41  France,  set  up  for  themselves."  Throughout  the 
kingdom,  -wherever  they  "went,  they  could  talk  of  no 
thing  but  the  Americans.  "  Ah,  happy  people !"  said 
they,  "  neither  oppressing  nor  oppressed,  they  min- 
44  gle  together  as  one  great  family  of  brothers.  Every 
44  man  is  free.  Every  man  labours  for  himself,  and 
44  wipes  with  joy  the  sweat  from  his  brow,  because 
44  'tis  the  earnest  of  plenteous  food  and  clothing,  edu- 
44  cation,  and  delights,  for  his  children !" 

THE  people  every  where  listened  with  eagerness  to 
these  descriptions  of  American  happiness,  and  sighed 
to  think  of  their  own  wretchedness.  The  smothered 
fire  soon  broke  out.  The  press  teemed  with  papers 
and  pamphlets  on  the  rig fits  of  Man — the  true  ends 
of  government, — and  the  blessings  of  Liberty.  The 
eyes  of  the  great  nation  were  presently  opened  to  a 
sight  of  her  degraded  and  wretched  state.  Then  sud 
denly  springing  up,  like  a  mighty  giantess  from  the 
hated  bed  of  violation  and  dishonour,  she  began  a 
course  of  vengeance  as  terrible  as  it  had  been  long 
delayed.  The  unfortunate  king  and  queen  were 
quickly  brought  low. — The  heads  of  her  tyrant* 
every  where  bounded  on  the  floors  of  the  guillotine; 
while  in  every  place  dogs  licked  the  blood  of  nobles  : 
and  the  bodies  of  great  lords  were  scattered  like  dung 
over  the  face  of  the  earth. 

FEARING  that  if  France  were  suffered  to  go  on  at 
this  rate,  there  would  not  in  a  little  time,  be  a  CROWN 
left  in  Europe,  the  crowned  heads  all  confederated  to 
arrest  her  progress.  The  whole  surrounding  world, 
both  by  land  and  water,  was  in  commotion :  and  tre 
mendous  fleets  and  armies  poured  in  from  every 
side,  to  overwhelm  her.  With  unanimity  and  valour 
equal  to  their  dangers,  the  war-loving  Gauls  rushed 


140  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

forth  in  crowding  millions  to  meet  their  foes.  The 
mighty  armies  joined  in  battle,  appearing  to  the  ter 
rified  eye,  as  if  the  v/hole  human  race  were  rushing 
together  for  mutual  destruction.  But  not  content 
with  setting  the  eastern  world  on  fire,  the  furious 
combatants  (like  Milton's  warring  Spirits  tearing  up 
and  flinging  mountains  and  islands  at  each  other)  flew 
to  America  to  seize  and  drag  her  into  their  war. 

FLAMING  on  this  errand,  Mr.  Genet  lighted  on  our 
continent  as  an  envoy  from  France.  He  was  receiv 
ed  with  joy  as  a  brother  republican.  The  people 
every  where  welcomed  him  as  the  representative  of  a 
beloved  nation,  to  whom,  under  God,  they  owed 
their  liberties.  Grand  dinners  were  given — spark 
ling  bumpers  were  filled — and  standing  up  round  the 
vast  convivial  board,  with  joined  hands,  and  cheeks 
glowing  with  friendship  and  the  generous  juice,  they 
rent  the  air  with — "  health  and  fraternity  to  the  sister 
republics  of  France  and  America." 

WASHINGTON  joined  in  the  general  hospitality  to 
the  stranger.  He  extolled  the  valour,  and  congratu 
lated  the  victories  of  his  brave  countrymen.  "  Born, 
sir,  said  he,  in  a  land  of  Liberty,  for  whose  sake  I 
have  spent  the  best  years  of  my  life  in  war,  I  cannot  but 
Jeei  a  trembling  anxiety  whenever  I  see  an  oppressed 
people  drawing  their  swords  and  rearing  aloft  the 
sacred  banners  of  freedom  " 

ENRAPTURED  at  finding  in  America  such  a  cordial 
spirit  towards  his  country,  Mr.  Genet  instantly  set 
himself  to  call  it  into  the  fullest  exertion.  And  by 
artfully  ringing  the  changes  on  British  cruelty,  and 
French  generosity,  to  the  Americans,  he  so  far  suc 
ceeded  as  to  prevail  on  some  persons  in  Charleston 
to  commence  the  equipment  of  privateers  against  the 
British.  Dazzled  by  the  lustre  of  false  gratitude  to 
one  nation,  they  lost  sight  of  their  horrid  injustice  to 
another :  and  during  the  profoundest  peace  between 
England  and  America,  when  the  American  planters, 
by  their  flour,  rice,  and  cotton,  were  making  money 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  141 

almost  as  fast  as  if  they  had  mints  upon  their  estates ; 
and  when,  on  the  other  hand,  the  British  artizans 
were  driving  on  their  manufactures  day  and  night 
for  the  Americans — in  this  sacred  season  and  blissful 
state  of  things,  certain  persons  in  Charleston  began 
to  equip  privateers  against  England. 

GRIEVED  that  his  countrymen  should  be  capable  of 
such  an  outrage  against  justice,  against  humanity,  and 
every  thing  sacred  among  men  ;  and  equally  grieved 
to  see  them  so  far  forget,  so  far  belittle  themselves  as 
to  become  willing  cat's  paws  of  one  nation,  to  tear 
another  to  pieces,  he  instantly  issued  his  proclama 
tion,  stating  it  as  the  u  duty,  and  therefore  the  interest 
of  the  United  States  to  preserve  the  strictest  neutra 
lity  between  the  belligerents ;  and  prohibiting  the  citi 
zens  of  the  United  States,  from  all  manner  of  interfe 
rence  in  the  unhappy  contest" 

THIS  so  enraged  Mr.  Genet,  that  he  threatened  to 
appeal  from  the  president  to  the  people  !  i.  e.  in  plain 
English,  to  try  to  overthrow  the  government  of  the 
United  States  !  ! 

BUT,  thank  God,  the  American  people  were  too 
wise  and  virtuous  to  hear  these  things  without  feel 
ing  and  expressing  a  suitable  indignation.  They  ral 
lied  around  their  beloved  president ;  and  soon  gave 
this  most  inconsiderate  stranger  to  understand,  that 
he  had  insulted  the  sacred  person  of  their  father. 

WASHINGTON  bore  this  insult  with  his  usual  good 
temper !  but  at  the  same  time  took  such  prudent 
measures  with  the  French  government,  that  Mr. 
Genet  was  quickly  recalled. 

HAVING  at   length   attained   the   acme  of  all  his 
wishes — having  lived  to  see  a  general  and  efficient 
government  adopted,  and  for  eight  years  in  success 
ful  operation,  ex.ilting  his  country  from  the  brink  of 
infamy  and  ruin  to  the  highest  ground  of  prosperity 
and  honour,  both  at  home  <md  abroad — abroad,  peace 
with    Britain — with   Spain — .md,   some  slight  heart 
burnings  excepted,  peace  with   France,  and  without 
the  world :    at  home,  peace   with   the  Indians — ou  r 


142  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

shining  ploughshares  laying  open  the  best  treasures 
of  the  earth — our  ships  flying  over  every  sea— dis 
tant  nations  feeding  on  our  bread,  and  manufactur 
ing  our  staples — our  revenue  rapidly  increasing  with 
our  credit,  religion,  learning,  arts,  and  whatever  tends 
to  national  glory  and  happiness,  he  determined  to  lay 
down  that  load  of  public  care  which  he  had  borne  so 
long,  and  which,  now  in  his  66th  year,  he  found  was 
growing  too  heavy  for  him.  But  feeling  towards 
his  countrymen  the  solicitude  of  a  father  for  his 
children,  over  whom  he  had  long  watched,  but  whom 
he  was  about  to  leave  to  themselves ;  and  tearing,  on 
the  one  hand,  that  they  might  go  astray,  and,  hoping, 
on  the  other,  that  from  his  long  labours  of  love,  he 
might  be  permitted  to  impart  the  counsels  of  his  long 
experience,  he  drew  up  for  them  a  farewell  address, 
which  the  filial  piety  of  the  nation  has  since  called 
44  his  Legacy" 

As  this  little  piece,  about  the  length  of  an  ordinary 
sermon,  may  do  as  much  good  to  the  people  of  Ame 
rica  as  any  sermon  ever  preached,  that  Divine  one  on 
the  mount  excepted,  I  shall  offer  no  apology  for  lay 
ing  it  before  them  ;  especially  as  I  well  know  that 
they  will  all  read  it  with  the  feelings  of  children 
reading  the  last  letter  of  a  once  loved  father  now  in 
his  grave.  And  who  knows  but  it  may  check  for  a 
while  the  fatal  flame  of  discord  which  has  destroyed 
ail  the  once  glorious  republics  of  antiquity,  and  here 
now  at  length  in  the  United  States  has  caught  upon 
the  last  republic  that  is  left  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  143 

WASHINGTON'S  LAST  WORDS 

To  the  People  of  the  United  States. 
September,  1796. 

Friends  and  Fedow  citizens ^ 

44  THE  period  for  a  new  election  of  a  citizen,  to 
administer  the  executive  government  of  the  United 
States,  being  not  far  distant — and  the  time  actually 
arrived  when  your  thoughts  must  be  employed  in  de 
signating  the  person  who  is  to  be  clothed  with  that 
important  trust — it  appears  to  me  proper,  especially 
as  it  may  conduce  to  a  mor»  distinct  expression  of 
the  public  voice,  that  I  should  now  apprise  you  of 
the  resolution  I  have  formed,  to  decline  being  consi 
dered  among  the  number  of  those  out  of  whom  a 
choice  is  to  be  made. 

"  I  BEG  you,  at  the  same  time,  to  do  me  the  justice 
to  be  assured,  that  this  resolution  has  not  been  taken 
without  a  strict  regard  to  all  the  considerations  ap 
pertaining  to  the  relation  which  binds  a  dutiful  citi 
zen  to  his  country  ;  and  that,  in  withdrawing  the 
tender  of  service,  which  silence  in  my  situation  might 
imply,  1  am  influenced  by  no  diminution  of  zeal  for 
your  future  interest,  no  deficiency  of  grateful  respect 
for  your  past  kindness ;  but  am  supported  by  a  full 
conviction,  that  the  step  is  compatible  with  both. 

44  THE  acceptance  of,  and  continuance  hitherto  in^ 
the  office  to  which  your  suffrages  have  twice  called 
me,  have  been  a  uniform  sacrifice  of  inclination  to 
the  opinion  of  duty,  and  to  a  deference  for  what  ap 
peared  to  be  your  desire.  I  constantly  hoped,  that 
it  would  have  been  much  earlier  in  my  power,  con 
sistently  with  motives  which  I  was  not  at  liberty  to 
disregard,  to  return  to  that  retirement  from  which  I 
had  been  reluctantly  drawn.  The  strength  of  my 
inclination  tc  do  this,  previous  to  the  last  election, 


144  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

had  even  led  to  the  preparation  of  an  address  to  de 
clare  it  to  you.  But  mature  reflection  on  the  then  per 
plexed  and  critical  posture  of  our  affairs  with  foreign 
nations,  and  the  unanimous  advice  of  persons  entitled 
to  my  confidence,  impelled  me  to  abandon  the  idea. 
"  I  REJOICE  that  the  state  of  your  concerns,  exter 
nal  as  well  as  internal,  no  longer  renders  the  pursuit 
of  inclination  incompatible  with  the  sentiment  of  duty 
or  propriety ;  and  am  persuaded,  whatever  partiality 
may  be  retained  for  my  services,  that,  in  the  present 
circumstances  of  our  country,  you  will  not  disapprove 
my  determination  to  retire. 

"  THE  impressions  with  which  I  first  undertook 
the  arduous  trust,  were  explained  on  the  proper  occa 
sion.  In  the  discharge  of  this  trust,  I  will  only  say, 
that  I  have,  with  good  intentions,  contributed,  towards 
the  organization  and  administration  of  the  govern 
ment,  the  best  exertions  of  which  a  very  fallible  judg 
ment  was  capable.  Not  unconscious,  in  the  outsett 
of  the  inferiority  of  my  qualifications,  experience  in 
my  own  eyes,  perhaps  still  more  in  the  eyes  of  others, 
has  strengthened  the  motives  to  diffidence  of  myself: 
and  every  day  the  increasing  weight  of  years  admo 
nishes  me  more  and  more  that  the  shade  of  retire 
ment  is  as  necessary  to  me  as  it  will  be  welcome. 
Satisfied  that  if  any  circumstances  have  given  pecu 
liar  value  to  my  services,  they  were  temporary,  I 
have  the  consolation  to  believe,  that  while  choice  and 
prudence  invite  me  to  quit  the  political  scene,  patri 
otism  does  not  forbid  it. 

*  u  In  looking  forward  to  the  moment  which  is  in 
tended  to  terminate  the  career  of  my  public  life,  my 
feelings  do  not  permit  me  to  suspend  the  deep  ac 
knowledgment  of  that  debt  of  gratitude  which  I  owe 
to  my  beloved  country,  for  the  many  honours  it  has 
conferred  upon  me ;  still  more  for  the  stedfast  con 
fidence  with  which  it  has  supported  me;  and  for  the 
opportunities  I  have  thence  enjoyed  of  manifest 
ing  my  inviolable  attachment,  by  services  faithful 
and  persevering,  though  in  usefulness  unequal  to 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  U5 

my  zeal.     If  benefits  have  resulted  to  our  country 
from  these  services,  let  it  always  be  remembered  to 
your  praise,  and  as  an  instructive  example  in  our 
annals,  that,  under  circumstances,  in  which  the  pas 
sions,  agitated  in  every  direction,  were  liable  to  mis 
lead — amidst  appearances  sometimes  dubious — vi 
cissitudes  of  fortune  often  discouraging — in   situ 
ations  in  which  not  unfrequently  want  of  success  has 
countenanced  the  spirit  of  criticism — the  constancy 
of  your  support  was  the  essential  prop  of  the  efforts, 
and  a  guarantee  of  the  plans  by  which  they  were 
effected.     Profoundly  penetrated  with  this  idea,  I 
shall  carry  it  with  me  to  my  grave,   as  a  strong  in 
citement  to  unceasing  vows  that  Heaven  may  con 
tinue  to  you  the  choicest  tokens  of  its  beneficence  j 
that  your  union  and  brotherly  affection  may  be  per 
petual  !  that  the  free  constitution,  which  is  the  work 
of  your  hands,  may  be  sacredly  maintained  ;  that  it* 
administration,  in  every  department,  may  be  stamped 
with  wisdom  and  virtue  ;  that,  in  fine,  the  happiness 
of  the  people  of  these  states,  under  the  auspices  of 
Heaven^  may  be  made  complete,  by  so  careful  a  pre 
servation  and  so  prudent  a  use  of  liberty,  as  will  ac 
quire  to  them  the  glory  of  recommending  it  to  the 
applause,  the  affection,  and  the  adoption  of  every 
nation  which  is  yet  a  stranger  to  it. 

"  HERE,  perhaps,  I  ought  to  stop.  But  a  solicitude 
for  your  welfare,  which  cannot  end  but  with  my  life, 
and  the  apprehension  of  danger,  natural  to  that  soli 
citude,  urge  me,  on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  to  of 
fer  to  your  solemn  contemplation,  and  to  recommend 
to  your  freque-nt  review,  some  sentiments,  which  are 
the  result  of  much  reflection,  of  no  inconsiderable 
observation,  and  which  appear  to  me  all  important  * 
to  the  permanency  of  your  felicity  as  a  people.  These 
will  be  offered  to  you  with  the  more  freedom,  as  you 
can  only  see  in  them  the  disinterested  warnings  of 
a  parting  friend,  who  can  possibly  have  no  personal 
motive  to  bias  his  counsel.  Nor  can  I  forget,  as 
an  encouragement  to  it>  your  indulgent  reception 


146  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

of  my  sentiments  on  a  former  and  not  dissimilar  oc 
casion. 

"  INTERWOVEN  as  is  the  love  of  liberty  with  every 
ligament  of  your  hearts,  no  recommendation  of  mine 
is  necessary  to  fortify  or  confirm  the  attachment. 
f  u  THE  unity  of  government,  which  constitutes  you 
one  people,  is  also  now  dear  to  you.  It  is  justly  so; 
for  it  is  a  main  pillar  in  the  edifice  of  your  real  in 
dependence;  the  support  of  your  tranquillity  at  home, 
your  peace  abroad  ;  of  your  safety ;  of  your  prospe 
rity  ;  of  that  very  liberty  which  you  so  highly  prize. 
But  as  it  is  easy  to  foresee,  that  from  different  causes, 
and  from  different  quarters,  much  pains  will  be  taken, 
many  artifices  employed,  to  weaken  in  your  minds 
the  conviction  of  this  truth  ;  as  this  is  the  point  in 
your  political  fortress,  against  which  the  batteries  of 
internal  and  external  enemies  will  be  most  constantly 
ind  actively  (though  often  covertly  and  insidiously) 
directed;  it  is  of  infinite  moment,  that  you  should  pro 
perly  estimate  the  immense  value  of  your  national 
union,  to  your  collective  and  individual  happiness  j 
that  you  should  cherish  a  cordial,  habitual,  and  im- 
moveable  attachment  to  it ;  accustoming  yourselves 
to  think  and  speak  of  it  as  of  the  palladium  of  your 
political  safety  and  prosperity  ;  watching  for  its  pre 
servation  with  jealous  anxiety;  discountenancing 
whatever  may  suggest  even  a  suspicion  that  it  can  in 
any  event  be  abandoned  ;  and  indignantly  frowning 
upon  the  first  dawning  of  every  attempt  to  alien  any 
portion  of  our  country  from  the  rest,  or  to  enfeeble 
the  sacred  ties  which  now  link  together  the  various 
parts. 

uFoR  this  you  have  every  inducement  of  sympathy 
*and  interest.  Citizens,  by  birth  or  choice,  of  a  com 
mon  country,  that  country  has  a  right  to  concentrate 
your  affections.  The  name  of  AMERICAN,  which  be 
longs  to  you  in  your  national  capacity,  must  always 
exalt  the  just  pride  of  patriotism,  more  than  any  ap 
pellation  derived  from  local  discriminations.  With 
slight  shades  of  difference,  you  have  the  same  rcli- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  j47 

gion,  manners,  habits  and  political  principles.  You 
have,  in  a  common  cause,  fought  and  triumphed  to 
gether.  The  independence  and  liberty  you  possess 
are  the  work  of  joint  councils,  and  joint  efforts— -of 
common  dangers,  sufferings  and  successes. 

44  BUT  these  considerations,  however  powerfully 
they  address  themselves  to  your  sensibility,  are 
greatly  outweighed  by  those  which  apply  more  im 
mediately  to  your  interest.  Here  every  portion  of 
our  country  finds  the  most  commanding  motives  for 
carefully  guarding  and  preserving  the  union  of  the 
whole. 

u  'l'n E  NORTH,  in  an  unrestrained  intercourse  with 
the  SOUTH,  protected  by  the  equal  laws  of  a  common 
government,  finds  in  the  productions  of  the  latter, 
great  additional  resources  of  maritime  and  commer 
cial  enterprize,  and  precious  materials  of  manufac 
turing  industry.  The  SOUTH,  in  the  same  intercourse 
benefiting  by  the  agency  of  the  NORTH,  sees  its  agri 
culture  grow,  and  its  commerce  expand.  Turning 
partly  into  its  own  channels  the  seamen  of  the  NORTH, 
it  finds  its  particular  navigation  invigorated  :  and 
while  it  contributes,  in  different  ways,  to  nourish  and 
increase  the  general  mass  of  the  national  navigation, 
it  looks  forward  to  the  protection  of  a  maritime 
strength,  to  which  itself  is  unequally  adapted. — The 
EAST,  in  a  like  intercourse  with  the  WEST,  already 
finds,  and  in  the  progressive  improvement  of  interior 
communications,  by  land  and  water,  will  more  and 
more  find  a  valuable  vent  for  the  commodities  which 
it  brings  from  abroad,  or  manufactures  at  home. — 
The  WEST  derives  from  the  EAST  supplies  requisite 
to  its  growth  and  comfort :  and  what  is,  perhaps,  of 
still  greater  consequence,  it  must  of  necessity  owe 
the  SECURE  enjoyment  of  indispensable  OUTLETS 
for  its  own  productions,  to  the  weight,  influence,  and 
the  future  maritime  strength  of  the  Atlantic  side  of 
the  union,  directed  by  an  indissoluble  community  of 
interest,  as  ONE  NATION.  Any  other  tenure,  by  which 
the  WEST  can  hold  this  essential  advantage,  whether 


148  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

derived  from  its  own  separate  strength,  or  from  an 
apostate  and  unnttturcl  connexion  with  any  foreign 
power,  must  be  intrinsically  precarious. 
•  "  WHILE  then  every  part  of  our  country  thus  feels 
an  immediate  and  particular  interest  in  union,  all  the 
parties  combined  cannot  fail  to  find,  in  the  united 
mass  of  means  and  efforts,  greater  strength,  greater 
resource,  proportionably  greater  security  from  exter 
nal  danger,  a  less  frequent  interruption  of  their  peace 
by  foreign  nations.  And,  what  isoi  inestimable  value, 
they  must  derive  from  union  an  exemption  from 
those  broils  and  wars  between  themselves,  which  so 
frequently  afflict  neighbouring  countries,  not  tied  to 
gether  by  the  same  government  ;  which  their  own 
rivalships  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  produce,  but 
which  opposite  foreign  alliances,  attachments,  and 
intrigues,  would  stimulate  and  embitter.  Hence,  like 
wise,  they  will  avoid  the  necessity  of  those  over 
grown  military  establishments,  which,  under  any 
form  of  government  are  inauspicious  to  liberty  ;  and 
which  are  to  be  regarded  as  particularly  hostile  to- 
republican  liberty.  In  this  sense  it  is,  that  your  union 
ought  to  be  considered  as  a  main  prop  of  your  liber 
ty,  and  that  the  love  of  the  one  ought  to  endear  to 
you  the  preservation  of  the  other. 

u  THESE  considerations  speak  a  persuasive  lan 
guage  to  every  reflecting  and  virtuous  mind  ;  and  ex 
hibit  the  continuance  of  the  UNION  as  a  primary  ob 
ject  of  patriotic  desire.  Is  there  a  doubt,  whether  a 
common  government  can  embrace  so  large  a  sphere  f 
Let  experience  solve  it.  To  listen  to  mere  specula 
tion  in  such  a  case  were  criminal.  We  are  autho 
rised  to  hope  that  a  proper  organization  of  the  whole, 
with  the  auxiliary  agency  of  governments  for  the  re 
spective  subdivisions,  will  afford  a  happy  issue  to 
the  experiment.  ' T  is  well  worth  a  fair  and  full  expe 
riment.  With  such  powerful  and  obvious  motives  to 
union,  affecting  all  parts  of  our  country,  while  ex 
perience  shall  not  have  demonstrated  its  impracti 
cability,  there  will  always  be  reason  to  distrust  the 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  149 

patriotism  of  those,  who  in  any  quarter  may  endea 
vor  to  weaken  its  bands. 

'•  *'  IN  contemplating  the  causes  which  may  disturb 
our  union,  it  occurs,  as  a  matter  of  serious  concern, 
that  any  ground  should  have  been  furnished  for  cha 
racterizing  parties  by  GEOGRAPHICAL  discrimina 
tions NORTHERN  and  SOUTHERN ATLANTIC  and 

WESTERN  ;  whence  designing  men  may  endeavor  to 
excite  a  belief,    that  there  is  a  real  difference  of  lo 
cal  interests  and  views.     One  of  the  expedients  of 
party  to  acquire  influence,  within  particular  districts 
is  to  misrepresent  the  opinions  and  aims  of  other  dis 
tricts.  You  cannot  shield  yourselves  too  much  against 
the  jealousies  and  heart-burnings  which  spring  from 
these  misrepresentations.    They  tend  to  render  alien 
to  each  other,  those  who  ought  to  be  bound  together 
by  fraternal  affection.     The  inhabitants  of  our  west 
ern  country  have  lately  had  a  useful  lesson  on  this 
head.     They  have  seen,  in  the  negociation  by  the 
executive,   and  in  the  unanimous  ratification  by  the 
senate,  of  the  treaty  with  Spain,  and  in  the  univer 
sal  satisfaction  at  that  event  throughout  the  United 
States,  a  decisive  proof  how  unfounded  were  the  sus 
picions  propagated  among  them,  of  a  policy  in  the 
general  government,   and  in  the  Atlantic  states,  un 
friendly  to  their  interest  in  regard  to  the  MISSISSIPPI 
They  have  been  witnesses  to  the  formation  of  two 
treaties,  that  with  Great-Britain, and  that  with  Spain 
which  secure  to  them  every  thing  they  could  desire 
in  respect  to  our  foreign  relations,  towards  confirm 
ing  their  prosperity.     Will  it  not  be  their  wisdom 
to  rely  for  the  preservation  of  these  advantages  on 
the  union  by  which  they  were  procured  ?   Will  they 
not  henceforth  be  deaf  to  those  advisers,  if  such  there 
are,  who  would  sever  them  from  their  brethren,  and 
connect  them  with  aliens  ? 

<4  To  the  efficacy  and  permanency  of  your  union 
a  government  for  the  whole  is  indispensable.  No  al 
liances,  however  strict,  between  the  parts,  can  be  an 
adequate  substitute.  Thevmustinevitablv  experience 
02 


150  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

the  infractions  and  interruptions  which  all  alliances 
in  all  times  have  experienced.  Sensible  of  this  mo 
mentous  truth,  you  have  improved  upon  your  first* 
essay,  by  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  of  govern 
ment  belter  calculated  than  your  former,  for  an  inti 
mate  union,  and  for  the  efficacious  management  of 
your  common  concerns.  This  government,  the  off 
spring  of  your  own  choice,  uninfluenced  and  unaw- 
ed,  adopted  upon  full  investigation  and  mature  deli 
beration,  completely  free  in  its  principles,  in  the  dis 
tribution  of  its  powers,  uniting  security  with  ener 
gy,  and  containing  within  itself  a  provision  for  its 
own  amendment,  has  a  just  claim  to  your  confidence 
and  your  support.  Respect  for  its  authority,  coin- 
Dliance  with  its  laws,  acquiescence  in  its  measures, 
are  duties  enjoined  by  the  fundamental  maxims  of 
true  liberty.  The  basis  of  our  political  systems  is 
the  right  of  the  people  to  make  and  alter  their  con 
stitutions  of  government.  But  the  constitution  which 
at  any  time  exists,  till  changed  by  an  explicit  and 
authentic  act  of  the  whole  people,  is  sacredly  obli 
gatory  upon  all.  The  very  idea  of  the  power  and  the 
~ight  of  the  people  to  establish  government,  pre 
supposes  the  duty  of  every  individual  to  obey  the  es- 
,  ablished  government* 

<l  ALL  obstructions  to  the  execution  of  the  laws, 
all  combinations  and  associations,  under  whatever 
plausible  character,  with  a  real  design  to  direct,  con- 
tro1,  counteract,  or  awe  the  regular  deliberation  and 
action  of  the  constituted  authorities,  are  destructive 
of  this  fundamental  principle,  and  of  fatal  tenden^' 
They  serve  to  organize  faction;  to  give  it  an  artificial, 
and  extraordinary  force  ;  to  put  in  the  place  of  tne 
delegated  will  of  the  nation,  the  will  of  a  party,  often 
a  small,  but  artful  and  enterprising  minority  of  the 
community;  and,  according  to  the  alternate  triumphs 
of  different  parties,  to  make  the  public  administra 
tion  the  mirror  of  the  ill-concerted  and  incongruous 
projects  of  faction,  rutlur  than  the  organ  of  consis* 
tent  and  wholesome  plans,  digested  by  common 
counsels,  and  modified  by  mutual  interests. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  151 

44  HOWEVER  combinations  or  associations  of  the 
above  description  may  now  and  then  answer  popular 
ends,  they  are  likely,  in  the  course  of  time  and  things, 
to  become  potent  engines,  by  which  cunning,  ambi 
tious,  and  unprincipled  men  will  be  enabled  to  sub 
vert  the  power  of  the  people  ;  and  to  usurp  to  them 
selves  the  reins  of  government ;  destroying  after 
wards  the  very  engines  which  have  lifted  them  to  un 
just  dominion. 

«4  TOWARDS  the  preservation  of  your  government, 
and  the  permanency  of  your  present  happy  state,  it 
is  requisite,  not  only  that  you  speedily  discounte 
nance  irregular  oppositions  to  its  acknowledged  au 
thority,  but  also  that  you  resist  with  care  the  spirit  of 
innovation  upon  its  principles,  however  specious  the 
pretexts.  One  method  of  assault  may  be  to  effect, 
in  the  forms  of  the  constitution,  alterations  which 
will  impair  the  energy  of  the  system ;  and  thus  to 
undermine  what  cannot  be  directly  overthrown.  In 
all  the  changes  to  which  you  may  be  invited,  remem 
ber  that  time  and  habit  are  at  least  as  necessary  to 
fix  the  true  character  of  government,  as  of  other  hu 
man  institutions  ;  that  experience  is  the  surest  stand 
ard,  by  which  to  test  the  real  tendency  of  the  exist 
ing  constitution  of  a  country ;  that  facility  in  changes, 
upon  the  credit  of  mere  hypothesis  and  opinion,  ex 
poses  to  perpetual  change,  from  the  endless  variety 
of  hypothesis  and  opinion.  And  remember,  especial 
ly,  that  for  the  efficient  management  of  your  common 
interests,  in  a  country  so  extensive  as  ours,  a  go 
vernment  of  as  much  vigor  as  is  consistent  with  the 
perfect  security  of  liberty,  is  indispenable.  Liberty 
itself  will  find  in  such  a  government,  with  powers 
properly  distributed  and  adjusted,  its  surest  guardian. 
It  is,  indeed,  little  else  than  a  name,  where  the  gov 
ernment  is  too  feeble  to  withstand  the  enterprises  of 
faction  ;  to  confine  each  member  of  the  society  within 
the  limits  prescribed  by  the  laws ;  and  to  maintain  all 
in  the  secure  and  tranquil  enjoyment  of  the  rights  of 
person  and  property. 


152  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  I  HAVE  already  intimated  to  you  the  danger  of 
the  parties  in  the  state,  with  particular  reference  to 
the  founding  of  them  on  geographical  discrimina 
tions.  Let  me  now  take  a  more  comprehensive  view, 
and  warn  you  in  the  most  solemn  manner  against  the 
baneful  effects  of  the  spirit  of  party,  generally. 

44  THIS  spirit,  unfortunately,  is  inseparable  from 
our  nature,  having  its  root  in  the  strongest  passions 
of  the  human  mind.  It  exists  under  different  shapes 
in  all  governments,  more  or  less  stifled,  controled, 
or  repressed.  Bat  in  those  of  the  popular  form,  it  is 
seen  in  its  greatest  rankness  ;  and  is  truly  their  worst 
enemy. 

44  THE  alternate  dominion  of  one  faction  over 
another,  sharpened  by  the  spirit  of  revenge  natural 
to  party  dissention,  which,  in  different  ages  and 
countries,  has  perpetrated  the  most  horrid  enormi 
ties,  is  itself  frightful  despotism.  But  this  leads  at 
length  to  a  formal  and  permanent  despotism.  The 
disorders  and  miseries  which  result, gradually  incline; 
the  minds  of  men  to  seek  security  and  repose  in  the 
absolute  power  of  an  individual.  And,soonerorlater, 
the  chief  of  some  prevailing  faction,  more  able  or 
more  fortunate  than  his  competitors,  turns  this  dis 
position  to  the  purposes  of  his  own  elevation,  on  the 
ruins  of  public  liberty. 

44  WITHOUT  looking  forward  to  an  extremity  of 
this  kind  (which,  nevertheless, ought  not  to  be  entire 
ly  out  of  sight,)  the  common  and  continual  mischiefs 
of  the  spirit  of  party  are  sufficient  to  make  it  the  in 
terest  and  duty  of  a  wise  people  to  discourage  and 
restrain  it. 

4«  IT  serves  always  to  distract  the. public  councils, 
and  enfeeble  the  public  administration.  It  agitates 
the  community  with  ill  founded  jealousies  and  false 
alarms ;  kindles  the  animosity  of  one  part  against 
Another  ;  foments  occasionally  riot  and  insurrection; 
and  opens  the  door  to  foreign  influence  and  corrup 
tion,  which  find  a  facilitated  access  to  the  government 
itself  through  the  channels  of  party  passions.  Thua 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

the  policy  and  will  of  one  country  are  subjected  to 
the  policy  and  will  of  another. 

44  THERE  is  an  opinion  that  parties  in  free  coun 
tries  are  useful  checks  upon  the  administration  ot  the 
government,  and  serve  to  keep  alive  the  spirit  of 
liberty.  This, within  certain  limits,  is  probably  true: 
and,  in  governments  of  a  monarchical  cas  .patriotism 
may  look  with  indulgence,  if  not  with  tavor,  upon 
the  spirit  of  party.  But  in  those  of  the  popular  cha 
racter,  in  governments  purely  elective,  it  is  a  spirit 
not  to  be  encouraged.  From  their  natural  tendency, 
it  is  certain  there  will  always  be  enough  of  this  spir 
it  for  every  salutary  purpose.  A  nd  there  being  con 
stant  danger  of  excess,  the  effort,  ought  to  be,  by 
force  of  public  opinion,  to  mitigate  and  assuage  it. 
A  fire  not  to  be  quenched,  it  demands  a  uniform 
vigilance  to  prevent  its  bursting  into  a  flame,  lest, 
instead  of  warming,  it  should  consume. 

**  IT  isimportant,  likewise,  that  the  habits  of  think 
ing  in  a  free  country  should  inspire  caution,  in  those 
entrusted  with  its  administration,  to  confine  them 
selves  within  their  respective  constitutional  spheres, 
avoiding,  in  the  exercise  of  the  powers  of  one  depart 
ment,  to  encroach  upon  another.  The  spirit  of  en 
croachment  tends  to  consolidate  the  powers  of  all  the 
departments  in  one,  and  thus  to  create,  whatever  the 
form  of  government,  a  real  despotism.  A  just  esti 
mate  of  that  love  of  power,  and  pronenes*  to  abuse 
it,  which  predominates  in  the  human  heart,  is  suffi 
cient  to  satisfy  us  of  the  truth  of  this  position.  The 
necessity  of  reciprocal  checks,  in  the  exercise  of  po 
litical  power,  by  dividing  and  distributing  it  into  dif 
ferent  depositories,  and  constituting  each  the  guar 
dian  of  public  weal  against  invasions  by  the  others, 
has  been  evinced  by  experiments  ancient  and  modern; 
some  of  them  in  our  country,  and  under  our  own  eyes. 
To  preserve  them  must  be  as  necessary  as  to  institute 
them.  If,  in  the  opinion  of  the  people,  the  distribu 
tion  or  modification  of  the  constitutional  powers  be 


154  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

in  any  particular  wrong,  let  it  be  corrected  by  an 
amendment  in  the-  way  which  the  constitution  desig 
nates. — But  let  there  be  no  change  by  usurpation  ; 
for  though  this,  in  one  instance,  may  be  the  instru 
ment  of  good,  it  is  the  customary  weapon  by  which 
free  governments  are  destroyed.— -The  precedent 
must  alway ,  greatly  overbalance,  in  permanent  evil, 
any  partial  or  transient  benefit  which  the  use  can  at 
any  time  yield. 

•4  Or  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to 
political  prosperity,  religion  and  morality  are  indis 
pensable  supports. — In  vain  would  that  man  claim 
the  tribute  of  pati  'otism,  who  should  labor  to  sub 
vert  these  great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  these 
firmest  props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens. — The 
mere  politician,  equally  with  the  pious  man,  ought 
to  respect  and  to  cherish  them. — A  volume  could 
not  trace  all  their  connexions  with  private  and  public 
felicity.  Let  it  be  simply  asked,  where  is  the  secu 
rity  for  property,  for  reputation,  for  life,  if  the  sense 
of  religious  obligations  DESERT  the  oaths,  which  are 
the  instruments  of  investigation  in  courts  of  justice  ? 
And  let  us  with  caution  indulge  the  supposition,  that 
morality  can  be  maintained  without  religion.  What 
ever  may  be  conceded  to  the  influence  of  refined  edu 
cation  on  minds  of  peculiar  structure,  reason  and  ex 
perience  both  forbid  us  to  expectthat  national  moral 
ity  can  prevail  in  exclusion  of  religious  principle. 

"  '  1'is  substantially  true,  that  virtue  or  morality  is 
a  necessary  spring  of  popular  government.  The  rule 
indeed  extends  with  more  or  less  force  to  every  spe 
cies  of  free  government.  Who  that  is  a  sincere 
friend  to  it  can  look  with  indifference  upon  attempts 
to  shake  the  foundation  of  the  fabric? 

*4  PROMOTE,  then,  as  an  object  of  primary  import 
ance,  institutions  for  the  general  diffusion  of  know 
ledge. — In  proportion  as  the  structure  of  a  govern 
ment  gives  force  to  public  opinion,  it  is  essential 
that  public  opinion  should  be  enlightened. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  155 

u  As  a  very  important  source  of  strength  and  se 
curity,  cherish  public  credit.  One  method  of  pre 
serving  it,  is  to  use  it  as  sparingly  as  possible ;  avoid 
ing  occasions  of  expence  by  cultivating  peace  ;  but 
remembering  also  that  timely  disbursements  to  pre 
pare  for  danger  frequently  prevent  much  greater  dis-* 
bursements  to  repel  it ;  avoiding  likewise  the  accu 
mulations  of  debt,  not  only  by  shunning  occasions  of 
expence,  but  by  vigorous  exertions,  in  time  of  peace, 
to  discharge  the  debts  which  unavoidable  wars  may 
have  occasioned  j  not  ungenerously  throwing  upon 
posterity  the  burden  which  we  ourselves  ought  to 
bear. — The  execution  of  these  maxims  belongs  to 
your  representatives ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  public 
opinion  should  co-operate.  To  facilitate  to  them  the 
performance  of  their  duty,  it  is  essential  that  you 
should  practically  bear  in  mind, that  towards  the  pay 
ment  of  debts  there  must  be  revenue  ;  that  to  have 
revenue  there  must  be  taxes  ;  that  no  taxes  can  be 
devised  which  are  not  more  or  less  inconvenient  and 
unpleasant ;  that  the  intrinsic  embarrassment  inse 
parable  from  the  selection  ot  the  proper  object  (which 
is  always  a  choice  of  difficulties)  ought  to  be  a  deci 
sive  motive  for  a  candid  construction  of  the  conduct 
of  the  government  in  making  it,  and  for  a  spirit  of 
acquiescence  in  the  measures  for  obtaining  revenue, 
which  the  public  exigencies  may  at  any  time  dic 
tate. 

f  *4  OBSERVE  good  faith  and  justice  towards  all  na 
tions  ;  cultivate  peace  and  harmony  with  all.  Reli 
gion  and  morality  enjoin  this  conduct :  and  can  it  be 
that  good  policy  does  not  equally  enjoin  it  ?  It  will  be 
worthy  of  a  free,  enlightened,  and  at  no  distant  period 
a  great  nation,  to  give  to  mankind  the  magnanimous 
and  too  novel  example  of  a  people  always  guided  by 
an  exalted  justice  and  benevolence.  Who  can  doubt 
that  in  the  course  of  time  and  things,  the  fruits  of 
such  a  plan  would  richly  repay  any  temporary  advan- 
tages  which  might  be  lost  by  a  steady  adherence  to  it 


156  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Can  it  be,  that  Providence  has  not  connected  the  per 
manent  felicity  of  a  nation  with  its  virtue  ?  The  ex 
periment,  at  least,  is  recommended  by  every  senti 
ment  which  ennobles  human  nature.  Alas  !  is  it  ren 
dered  impossible  by  its  vices  ? 

"  IN  the  execution  of  such  a  plan,  nothing  is  more 
essential  than  that  permanent,  inveterate  antipathies 
against   particular  nations,  and   passionate    attach 
ments  for  others,  should  be  excluded  ;    and  that  in 
place  of  them  just  and  amicable  feelings  towards  all 
should  be  cultivated.     The  nation  which  indulges 
towards  another  an  habitual  hatred,  or  an  habitual 
fondness,    is  in  some  degree  a  slave.      It  is  a  slave 
to  its  animosity  or  to  its  affection,  either  of  which  is 
sufficient  to  lead  it  astray  from  its  duty  and  its  in 
terest.      Antipathy  in  one  nation  against  another  dis 
poses  each  more  readily  to  offer  insult  and  injury  ;  to 
lay   hold  of  slight  causes  of  umbrage  ;  and  to  be 
haughty  and  intractable,  when  accidental  or  trifling 
occasions  of  dispute  occur.     Hence  frequent  colli 
sions,  obstinate,  envenomed,  and  bloody   contests. 
The  nation,  prompted  by  ill-will  and   resentment, 
sometimes  impels  to  war  the  government,  contrary 
to  the  best  calculations  of  policy.     The  government 
sometimes  participates  in  the  national  propensity  ; 
and  adopts,  through  passion,  what  reason  would  re 
ject.     At  other  times,  it  makes  the  animosity  of  the 
nation  subservient  to  projects  of  hostility,  instigated 
by  pride,  ambition,  and  other  sinister  and  pernicious  * 
motives.     The  peace  often,  sometimes  perhaps  the 
liberty,  of  nations  has  been  the  victim. 
•     <4  So,  likewise,  a  passionate  attachment  of  one  na 
tion  for  another  produces  a  variety  of  evils.    Sympa 
thy  for  the  favorite  nation,  facilitating  the  illusion  of 
an  imaginary  common  interest,   in  cases  where  no 
real  common  interest  exists,    and  infusing  into  one 
the  enmities  of  the  other,betrays  the  former  into  a  par 
ticipation  in  the  quarrels  and  wars  of  the  latter,  with 
out  adequate  inducement  or  justification.      It  lead* 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.          157 

also  to   concessions  to  the  favorite  nation,  of  privi 
leges  denied  to  others,  which  is  apt  doubly  to  injure 
the  nation,  making  the  concessions ;  by  unnecessari 
ly  parting  with  whatought  to  have  been  retained ;  and 
by  exciting  jealousy,  ill-will,  and  a  disposition  to  re 
taliate,  in  the  parties  from  whom  equal  privileges  are 
withheld.     And  it  gives  to  ambitious,  corrupted,  or 
deluded  citizens   (who  devote  themselves  to  the  fa 
vourite  nation)  facility  to  betray  or  sacrifice  the  inte 
rests  of  their  own  country,  without  odium,  sometimes 
even  with  popularity  ;  gilding,  with  the  appearances 
of  a  virtuous  sense  of  obligation,  a  commendable  de 
ference  for  public  opinion,  or  a  laudable  zeal  for  pub 
lic  good,  the  base  or  foolish  compliances  of  ambition, 
corruption,  or  infatuation. 

"  As  avenues  to  foreign  influence  in  innumerable 
ways,  such  attachments  are  particularly  alarming  to 
the  truly  enlightened  and  independent  patriot.  How 
many  opportunities  do  they  afford  to  tamper  with  do 
mestic  factions  ;  to  practise  the  arts  of  seduction  ;  to 
mislead  public  opinion  ;  to  influence  or  awe  the  pub 
lic  councils  !  Such  an  attachment  of  a  small  or  weak, 
towards  a  great  and  powerful  nation,  dooms  the  for 
mer  to  be  the  satellite  of  the  latter. 

"  AGAINST  the  insidious  wiles  of  foreign  influence 
(I  conjure  you  to  believe  me,  fellow-citizens)  the 
jealousy  of  a  free  people  ought  to  be  CONSTANTLY 
awake  ;  since  history  and  experience  prove  that  fo 
reign  influence  is  one  of  the  most  baneful  foes  of 
republican  government.  But  that  jealousy,  to  be 
useful,  must  be  impartial ;  else  it  becomes  the  in 
strument  of  the  very  influence  to  be  avoided,  instead 
of  a  defence  against  it. — Excessive  partiality  tor  cne 
foreign  nation,  and  excessive  dislike  of  another, 
cause  those  whom  they  actuate,  to  see  danger  only  on 
one  side  j  and  serve  to  veil  and  even  second  the  arts 
of  influence  on  the  other.  Real  patriots,  who  may 
resist  the  intrigues  of  the  favorite,  are  liable  to  be 
come  suspected  and  odious  ;  while  its  tools  and  dunes 
P 


158  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

usurp  the  applause  and  confidence  of  the  people,  to 
surrender  their  interests. 

u  THE  great  rule  of  conduct  for  us,  in  regard  to 
foreign  nations,  is,  in  extending  ©ur  commercial  re 
lations,  to  have  with  them  as  little  POLITICAL  con 
nexion  as  possible.  So  far  as  we  have  already  form 
ed  engagements,  let  them  be  fulfilled  with  perfect 
good  faith.  Here  let  us  stop. 

t6  EUROPE  has  a  set  of  primary  interests,  which  to 
us  have  none,  or  a  very  remote  relation.  Hence  she 
must  be  engaged  in  frequent  controversies,  the  cau 
ses  of  which  are  essentially  foreign  to  our  concerns. 
Hence,  therefore,  it  must  be  unwise  in  us  to  impli 
cate  ourselves,  by  artificial  ties,  in  the  ordinary  vi 
cissitudes  of  her  politics,  or  the  ordinary  combina 
tions  and  collision  of  her  friendships  or  enmities. 

"  OUR  detached  and  distant  situation  invites  and 
enables  us  to  pursue  a  different  course.  If  we  re 
main  one  people,  under  an  efficient  government,  the 
period  is  not  far  off,  when  we  may  defy  material  in 
jury  from  external  annoyance  ;  when  we  may  take 
such  an  attitude  as  will  cause  the  neutrality,  we  may 
at  any  time  resolve  upon,  to  be  scrupulously  respect 
ed  ;  when  belligerent  nations,  under  the  impossibi 
lity  of  making  acquisitions  upon  us,  will  not  lightly 
hazard  the  giving  us  provocations ;  when  we  may 
choose  peace  or  war,  as  our  interest,,  guided  by 
justice,  shall  counsel. 

M  WHY  forego  the  advantages  of  so  peculiar. a  si 
tuation  ?  Why  quit  our  own,  to  stand  upon  foreign 
ground  ?  Why,  by  interweaving  our  destiny  with 
that  of  any  part  of  Europe,  entangle  our  peace  and 
prosperity  in  the  toils  of  European  ambition,  rival- 
ship,  interest,  humour,  or  caprice  ? 

"  >Tis  our  true  policy  to  steer  clear  of  permanent 
alliances,  with  any  portion  of  the  foreign  world  ;  so 
ar,  I  mean,  as  we  are  now  at  liberty  to  do  it ;  for  let 
me  not  be  understood  as  capable  of  patronising  in 
fidelity  to  existing  engagements.  I  hold  the  maxim 
no  less  applicable  to  public  than  to  private  affairs, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  159 

that  honesty  is  always  the  best  policy.  I  repeat  it, 
therefore,  let  those  engagements  be  observed  in  their 
genuine  sense.  But,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  unnecessa 
ry,  and  would  be  unwise,  to  extend  them. 

"  TAKING  care  always  to  keep  ourselves,  by  suit 
able  establishments,  in  a  respectable  defensive  pos 
ture,  we  may  safely  trust  to  temporary  alliances  for 
extraordinary  emergencies. 

u  HARMONY,  and  a  liberal  intercourse  with  all  na 
tions,  are  recommended  by  policy,  humanity,  and  in 
terest.  But  even  our  commercial  policy  should  hold 
an  equal  and  impartial  hand  ;  neither  seeking  nor 
granting  exclusive  favors  or  preferences  ;  consulting 
the  natural  course  of  things  ;  diffusing  and  diversify 
ing  by  gentle  means  the  streams  of  commerce,  but 
forcing  nothing ;  establishing,  (with  powers  so  dis 
posed,  in  order  to  give  trade  a  stable  course,  to  de 
fine  the  rights  of  our  merchants,  and  to  enable  the 
government  to  support  them,)  conventional  rules  of 
intercourse,  the  best  that  present  circumstances  and 
mutual  opinion  will  permit,  but  temporary,  and  liable 
to  be  from  time  to  time  abandoned  or  varied,  as  ex 
perience  and  circumstances  shall  dictate  ;  constantly 
keeping  in  view,  that  it  is  folly  in  one  nation  to  look 
for  disinterested  favors  from  another  ;  that  it  must 
pay  with  a  portion  of  its  independence,  for  whatever 
it  may  accept  under  that  character  ;  that,  by  such 
acceptance,  it  may  place  itself  in  the  condition  of 
having  given  equivalents  for  nominal  favors,  and  yet 
of  being  reproached  with  ingratitude  for  not  giving 
more.  There  can  be  no  greater  error  than  to  expect 
or  calculate  upon  real  favors  from  nation  to  nation. 
It  is  an  illusion  which  experience  must  cure,  which 
a  just  pride  ought  to  discard. 

u  IN  offering  to  you,  my  countrymen,  these  coun 
sels  of  an  old  and  affectionate  friend,  I  dare  not  hope 
they  will  make  the  strong  and  lasting  impression  I 
could  wish  ;  that  they  will  control  the  usual  current 
of  the  passions,  or  prevent  our  nation  from  running 
the  course  which  has  hitherto  marked  the  destiny  of 


LIFtf  0$  WASHINGTON. 

nations  !  but,  if  I  may  even  flatter  myself,  that  they 
may  be  productive  of  some  partial  benefit,  some  oc 
casional  good  ;  that  they  may  now  and  then  recur  to 
moderate  the  fury  of  party  spirit  ;  to  warn  against 
the  mischiefs  of  foreign  intrigue  j  to  guard  against 
the  impostures  of  pretended  patriotism  ;  this  hope 
will  be  a  full  recompense  for  the  solicitude  for  your 
welfare,  by  which  they  have  been  dictated. 

"  How  far,  in  the  discharge  of  my  official  duties, 
I  have  been  guided  by  the  principles  which  have 
been  delineated,  the  public  records  and  other  evi 
dences  of  my  conduct  must  witness  to  you  and  to  the 
world.  To  myself,  the  a-surance  of  my  own  con 
science  is,  that  I  have,  at  least,  believed  myself  to 
be  guided  by  them. 

"  IN  relation  to  the  still  subsisting  war  in  Europe, 
my  proclamation  of  the  22d  of  April,  1793,  is  the 
index  to  my  plan.  Sanctioned  by  your  approving 
voice,  and  by  that  of  your  representatives  in  both 
houses  of  congress,  the  spirit  of  that  measure  has 
continually  governed  me,  uninfluenced  by  any  at 
tempts  to  deter  or  divert  me  from  it. 

*l  AFTER  deliberate  examination,  with  the  aid  of 
the  best  lights  I  coald  obtain,  I  was  well  satisfied 
that  our  country,  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  had  a  right  to  take,  and  was  bound  in  duty  and 
interest  to  take,  a  neutral  position.  Having  taken  it,  I 
determined,  as  far  as  should  depend  upon  me,  to  main 
tain  it  with  moderation,  perseverance,  and  firmness. 

"  THE  considerations  which  respect  the  right  to 
hold  this  conduct,  it  is  not  necessary  on  this  occa 
sion  to  detail.  I  will  only  observe,  that,  according 
to  my  understanding  of  the  matter,  that  right,  so  far 
from  being  denied  by  any  of  the  belligerent  powers, 
has  been  virtually  admitted  by  all. 

"  THE  duty  of  holding  a  neutral  conduct  may  be 
inferred,  without  any  thing  more,  from  the  obliga 
tion  which  justice  and  humanity  impose  on  every  na 
tion,  in  cases  in  which  it  is  free  to  act,  to  maintain 
inviolate  the  relations  of  peace  and  amity  towards 
other  nations. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  161 

w  THE  inducements  of  interest  for  observing  that 
conduct  will  best  be  referred  to  your  own  reflections 
and  experience.  With  me,  a  predominant  motive 
has  been,  to  endeavor  to  gain  time  to  our  country 
to  settle  and  mature  its  yet  recent  institutions,  and 
to  progress  without  interruption  to  that  degree  of 
strength  and  consistency,  which  is  necessary  to  give 
it,  humanly  speaking,  the  command  of  its  own  for 
tunes. 

44  THOUGH,  in  reviewing  the  incidents  of  my  ad 
ministration,  I  am  unconscious  of  intentional  error, 
I  am  nevertheless  too  sensible  of  my  defects,  not  to 
think  it  probable  that  I  may  have  committed  many 
errors.  Whatever  they  may  be,  I  fervently  beseech 
the  Almighty  to  avert  or  mitigate  the  evils  to  which 
they  may  tend.  I  shall  also  carry  with  me  the  hope 
that  my  country  will  never  cease  to  view  them  with 
indulgence  ;  and  that,  after  forty-five  years  of  my 
life  dedicated  to  its  service,  with  an  upright  zeal,  the 
faults  of  incompetent  abilities  will  be  consigned  to 
oblivion,  as  myself  must  soon  be  to  the  mansions  of 
rest. 

41  RELYING  on  its  kindness  in  this  as  in  other  thing;-, 
and  actuated  by  that  fervent  love  towards  it,  which 
is  so  natural  to  a  man,  who  views  in  it  the  native  soil 
of  himself  and  his  progenitors  for  several  generations, 
I  anticipate  with  pleasing  expectation  that  retreat,  in 
which  I  promise  myself  to  realize,  without  alloy,  the 
sweet  enjoyment  of  partaking,  in  the  midst  of  my 
fellow-citizens,  the  benign  influence  of  good  laws  un 
der  a  free  government — the  ever  favorite  object  of 
my  heart,  aid  th'  happy  reward,  as  I  trust,  of  our 
mutual  cause,  labours  and  dangers. 

G.  WASHINGTON. 

u  United  States,        \ 
WthSept.  1796."     f 

P  2 


162  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

THE  appearance  of  this  address  in  the  gazettes  of 
the  United  States,  struck  every  where  a  damp  on  the 
spirits  of  the  people.  To  be  thus  bidden  farewell  by 
one  to  whom,  in  every  time  of  danger,  they  had  so 
long  and  so  fondly  looked  up,  as,  under  God,  their 
surest  and  safest  friend,  could  not  but  prove  to  them 
a  grievous  shock.  Indeed  many  could  not  refrain 
from  tears,  especially  when  they  came  to  that  part 
where  he  talked  of  being  soon  to  be  "  consigned  to 
the  mansions  of  rest." 

DURING  the  next  and  last  session  that  he  ever 
met  congress,  which  began  on  the  7th  of  December, 
1796,  he  labored  hard  to  induce  that  honorable  body 
instantly  to  set  about  the  following  public  works, 
which,  to  him,  appeared  all  important  to  the  nation. 

1st.  Societies  and  institutions  for  the  improve 
ment  of  agriculture. 

2d.   A  navy. 

3d.   A  military  Academy. 

4th.   A  manufactory  of  arms. 

5th.  A  national  university. 

ON  the  4th  of  March,  1797,  he  took  his  last  leave 
of  Philadelphia.  Having  ever  been  an  enlightened 
and  virtuous  republican,  who  deems  it  the  first  of 
Duties  to  honour  the  man  whom  the  majority  of  his 
country  men  had  chcsen  to  honour,  Washington  could 
tot  think  of  going  away,  until  he  had  first  paid  his 
respects  to  the  man  of  their  choice.  It  was  this  that 
retarded  his  journey — it  was  this  that  brought  him  to 
the  senate  chamber. 

ABOUT  eleven  o'clock,  while  the  members  of  con 
gress,  with  numbers  of  the  first  characters,  were  as 
sembled  in  the  senate  hall,  anxiously  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  Mr.  Adam's,  a  modest  rap  was  heard  at  the 
door.  Supposing  it  to  be  the  president  elect)  the  at 
tention  of  all  was  turned  to  the  entry,  when,  lo  !  in 
stead  of  Mr.  Adams  and  his  suite,  who  should  appear 
but  the  honoured  and  beloved  form  of  Washington, 
without  attendants,  and  in  his  plain  travelling  dress 
Industry  the  joy  of  filial  love  sprung  up  in  all  hearty 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  163 

glowed  in  every  face  ;  and  bursted  forth  in  involun 
tary -plaudits  from  every  tongue.  Presently  Mr.  Ad 
ams  entered  with  his  attendants  ;  but  passed  on  in  a 
great  measure  unnoticed.  The  father  of  his  country 
was  in  the  presence  of  his  children,  and  perhaps  fo 
the  last  time;  who  then  could  divide  his  attentions? 
Riveted  on  his  face  was  every  glistening  eye  ;  while 
busy  memory,  flying  over  the  many  toils  and  dangers 
of  his  patriot  life,  gave  the  spectators  up  to  those  de 
licious  thoughts  from  which  no  obtruder  could  break 
them  without  a  sigh. 

HAVING  just  waited  to  congratulate  Mr.  Adams 
on  his  inauguration,  and  very  heartily  to  pray  that 
a  his  government  might  prove  a  great  joy  to  himself 
"  and  a  blessing  to  his  county,"  he  hastened  to 
Mount  Vernon ;  to  close  in  peace  the  short  evening 
of  this  laborious  lite  ;  and  to  wait  for  a  better,  even 
for  that "  rest  which  remamethfor  the  people  of  God" 

HE  carried  with  him  the  most  fervent  prayers  of 
congress,  that  '•*  Heaven  would  pour  its  happiest  sun 
shine  on  the  decline  of  his  days?9  But  this  their  pray 
er  was  not  fully  answered.  On  the  contrary,  with 
respect  to  his  country,  at  least,  his  evening  sun  went 
down  under  a  cloud. 

THE  French  directory,  engaged  in  a  furious  war 
with  England,  turned  to  America  for  aid.  But  Wash 
ington,  wisely  dreading  the  effects  of  war  on  his 
young  republic,  and  believing  that  she  had  an  unques 
tioned  right  to  neutrality,  most  strictly  enjoined  it 
on  his  people  by  proclamation.  This  so  enraged 
the  directory,  that  they  presently  gave  orders  to  their 
cruizers,  to  seize  American  ships  on  the  high  seas 
— that  equal  path  which  God  had  spread  for  the  na 
tions  to  trade  an  !  Washington  had  sent  out  gener& 
Charles  C.  Pinckney  to  remonstrate  against  such 
iniquitous  proceedings.  The  directory  would  not 
receive  him  !  but  still  continued  their  spoliations  on 
our  wide-spread  ind  defenceless  commerce,  ruining 
numbers  of  innocent  families.  Still  determined,  ac 
cording  to  Washington's  advice,  "  so  to  act  as  to  pitt 


164  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

our  enemy  in  the  wrong"  the  American  government 
dispatched  two  other  envoys,  Gen.  Marshall  and  El- 
bridge  Gerry,  to  aid  Pinckney.     But  they  fared  no 
better.     Though  they  only  supplicated  for  peace! 
though  they  only  prayed  to  be  permitted  to  make  ex 
planations,  they  were  still  kept  by  the  directory  at  a 
most  mortifying  distance  ;  and,  after  all,  were  told, 
that  America  was  not  to  look  for  a  single  smile  of 
reconciliation,  nor  even  a  word  on  that  subject,  until 
her  envoys  should  bring  large  tribute  in  their  hands  !! 
This,  as  Washington  had  predicted,  instantly  evapo 
rated  the  last  drop  of  American  patience.     He  had 
always  said,  that,  "  though  some  very  interested  or 
"  deluded  persons  were  much  too  fond  of  England 
"  and  France  to  value  America  as  they  ought ;  yet 
"  he  was  firmly  persuaded,   that  the  great  mass  of 
"  the  people  were  hearty  lovers  of  their  country  ;  and, 
4<  as  soon  as  their  eyes  were  open  to  the  grievous  in- 
"  juries  done  her,  would  assuredly  resent  them,  like 
*'  men,  to  whom  God  had  given  strong  feelings,  on 
"  purpose  to  guard  their  rights." 

His  prediction  was  gloriously  verified.  For,  on 
hearing  the  word  tribute,  the  American  envoys  in 
stantly  took  fire  !  !  while  the  brave  Gen.  Pinckney, 
(a  revolutionary  soldier,  and  neither  Englishman  nor 
Frenchman,  but  a  true  American,)  indignantly  ex 
claimed  to  the  secretary  of  the  directory — c<  Tribute, 
sir  !  no,  sir  !  the  Americans  pay  no  tribute  !  tell  the 
directory,  that  we  will  give  millions  for  defence,  but 
not  a  cent  for  tribute" 

SOON  as  this  demand  of  the  directory  was  told  in 
America,t  he  glorious  spirit  of  '76  was  kindled  like 
a  flash  of  lightning,  from  St.  Mary's  to  Maine. 
"  What  /"  said  the  people  every  where,  "  shall  we, 
shall  Americans!  who,  rather  than  pay  an  unconstitu 
tional  three-penny  tax  on  tea,  bravely  encountered  € 
bloody  war,  with  Britain,  now  tamely  yield  to  France 
to  beggar  us  at  pleasure  P  No  !  Millions  for  defence, 
but  not  a  cent  for  tribute,"  was  nobly  reverberated 
throughout  the  continent- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  165 

WAR  being  now  fully  expected,  the  eyes  of  the 
nation  were  instantly  turned  towards  Washington,  to 
head  her  armies  against  the  French.     He  readily 
consented  ;   but,   at  the  same  time,  observed  that 
there  would  be  no  war.     4<  The  directory  "  said  he, 
"  though  mad  enough  to  do  almost  any  thing,  are  yet 
not  quite  so  mad  as  to  venture  an  attack,   zvhen  they 
shall  find  that  the  spirit  of  the  nation  is  up"      The 
event  showed  the  usual  correctness  of  his  judgment 
for,  on  discovering  that  America, though  very  willing 
to  be  the  sister,   had  no  notion  of  being  the  slave  of 
France — on  learning  that  Washington  was  roused, 
and  the  strength  of  the  nation  rallying  around   him 
— and  also  that  the  American  tars,  led  on  by  the  gal 
lant  Truxton,  had  spread  the  fiery  stars  of  LIBERTY, 
blasting  on    every  sea  the  sickly  jleurs-de-luce,  of 
gallic  piracy,  the  directory  very  sagaciously  signified 
a  disposition  to  accommodate.   Mr.  Adams  immedi 
ately  dispatched  three  new  envoys  to  the  French  re 
public.     By  the  time  they  got  there,  the  French  re 
public   was   no    more !     Bonaparte,  believing   that 
volatile  people  incapable  of  governing  for  themselves, 
had  kindly  undertaken  to  govern  for  them  ;  and  ha 
ving,  en  passant,  kicked  the  directory  from  their 
seats,  he  seized  their  ill-managed  power,  and  very 
leisurely   mounted   the   throne    of    the    Bourbons. 
Dazzled  with  the  splendor  of  his  talents  and  victories, 
the  great  nation  quietly  yielded  to  his  reign  ;  and 
with  a  happy  versatility  peculiar  to  themselves,  ex 
changed  the  tumultuous  and  bloody    c<  Ca  ira"  for 
the  milder  notes  of  "  vive  PempereurS*     With  this 
wonderful  man,  the  American  envoys  found  no  diffi 
culty  to  negotiate  ;   for  having  no  wish  to  re-unite 
America  to  his  hated  enemy,    Britain,    he  received 
them  very  graciously  ;  and  presently  settled  all  their 
claims  in  a  satisfactory  manner.     Thus  lovingly  did 
the  breath  of  God  blow  away  once  more  the   black 
cloud  of  war,  and  restore  the  bright  day  of  peace  to 
our  favoured  land  !  But  Washington  never  lived  to 


166  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

rejoice  with  his  countrymen  in  the  sunshine  ot  that 
peace  ;  for  before  it  reached  our  shores,  he  had 
closed  his  eyes  for  ever  on  all  mortal  things. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  DEATH  OF  WASHINGTON. 

And  when  disease  obstructs  the  labouring  breath, 
When  the  heart  sickens  and  each  pulse  is  death, 
Even  then  Religion  shall  sustain  the  just ; 
Grace  their  last  moments  ;  nor  desert  their  dust. 

IF  the  prayers  of  millions  could  have  prevailed, 
Washington  would  have  been  immortal  on  earth. 
And  if  fulness  of  peace,  riches,  and  honours  could 
have  rendered  that  immortality  happy,  Washington 
had  been  blessed  indeed.  But  this  world  is  not  the 
place  of  true  happiness.  Though  numberless  are  the 
satisfactions,  which  a  prudence  and  virtue  like  Wash 
ington's  may  enjoy  in  this  world,  yet  they  fall  short, 
infinite  degrees,  of  that  pure,  unembittered  felicity, 
which  the  Almighty  parent  has  prepared  in  heaven 
for  the  spirits  of  the  just. 

To  prepare  for  this  immensity  of  bliss,  is  the  real 
errand  on  which  God  sent  us  into  the  world*  Our 
preparation  consists  in  acquiring  those  great  virtues, 
purity  and  love,  which  alone  can  make  us  -worthy 
companions  of  angels,  and  fit  partakers  of  their  ex 
alted  delights.  Washington  had  wisely  spent  his  life 
in  acquiring  the  IMMORTAL  VIRTUES.  «'  He  had 
fought  the  good  fight"  against  his  own  unreasonable 
affections.  He  had  glorified  God,  by  exemplifying  tjae 
charms  of  virtue  to  men.  He  had  borne  the  heat  and 
burden  of  the  day — his  great  day  of  duty  :  and  the 
evening  of  old  age  being  come,  the  servant  of  God 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  167 

must  now  go  to  receive  his  wages.     Happy  Wash 
ington  !  If  crowns  and  kingdoms  could  have  purcha 
sed  such  peace  as  thine,  such  hopes  big  with  immor 
tality,  with  what  begging  earnestness  would  crowns 
and  kingdoms  have  been  offered  by  the  mighty  con 
querors  of  the  earth,  in  their  dying  moments  of  ter 
ror  and  despair  ! 

ON  the  14th  of  December,  1799,  (when  he  want 
ed  but  9  weeks  and  2  days  of  being  68  years  old,)  he 
rode  out  to  his  mill,  three  miles  distant.  The  day 
was  raw  and  rainy.  The  following  night  he  was  at 
tacked  with  a  violent  pain  and  inflammation  of  the 
throat.  The  lancet  of  one  of  his  domestics  was  em 
ployed,  but  with  no  advantage.  Early  in  the  morn 
ing,  Dr.  Craik,  the  friend  and  physician  of  his  youth 
and  age,  was  sent  for.  Alarmed  at  the  least  appear 
ance  of  danger  threatening  a  life  so  dear  to  him,  Dr. 
Craik  advised  to  call  in,  immediately,  the  consult 
ing  assistance  of  his  friends,  the  ingenious  and  learned 
Dr.  Dick,  of  Alexandria,  and  Dr.  Brown,  of  Port 
Tobacco.  They  came  on  the  wings  of  speed.  They 
felt  the  awfulness  of  their  situation.  The  greatest 
of  human  beings  was  lying  low.  A  life,  of  all  others 
the  most  revered,  the  most  beloved,  was  at  stake. 
And  if  hum?*i  skill  could  have  saved — if  the  sword 
of  genius,  and  the  buckler  of  experience  could  have 
urned:  he  stroke  of  death,  Washington  had  still 
lived.  But  his  hour  was  come. 

IT  appears,  that  from  the  commencement  of  the 
attack,  he  was  favored  with  a  presentiment,  that  he 
was  now  laid  down  to  rise  no  more.  He  took,  how 
ever,  the  medicines  that  were  offered  him  :  but  it  was 
principally  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

IT  has  been  said  that  a  man's  death  is  generally  a 
copy  of  his  life.  It  was  Washington's  case  exactly. 
In  his  last  illness  he  behaved  with  the  firmness  of  a 
soldier,  and  the  resignation  of  a  Christian. 

THE  inflammation  in  his  throat  was  attended  with 
great  pain,  which  he  bore  with  the  fortitude  that  be 
came  him  He  was,  once  or  twice  heard  to  say 


168          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

that,  had  it  pleased  God,  he  should  have  been  glad  to 
die  a  little  easier  ;  but  that  he  doubted  not  that  it  "was 
for  his  good. 

EVERY  hour  now  spread  a  sadder  gloom  over  the 
scene.  Despair  sat  on  the  faces  of  the  physicians  ; 
for  they  saw  that  their  art  had  failed  !  The  strength 
of  the  mighty  was  departing  from  him  ;  and  death, 
with  his  sad  harbingers,  chills  arid  paleness,  was 
coming  on  apace. 

MOUNT  VERNON,  which  had  long  shone  the  queen 
of  elegant  joys,  was  now  about  to  suffer  a  sad  eclipse  i 
an  eclipse,  which  would  soon  be  mournfully  visible, 
not  only  through  the  United  States,  but  throughout 
the  whole  world. 

SONS  and  daughters  of  Columbia,  gather  your 
selves  together  around  the  bed  of  your  expiring  fa 
ther — around  the  last  bed  of  him  to  whom  under  God 
you  and  your  children  owe  many  of  the  best  bles 
sings  of  this  life.  When  Joseph  the  prime  minister 
of  Egypt  heard  that  his  shepherd  father  was  sick,  he 
hastened  up,  to  see  him  ;  and  fell  on  his  face,  and 
kissed  him,  and  wept  a  long  while.  But  Joseph  had 
never  received  such  services  from  Jacob  as  you  have 
received  from  Washington.  But  we  call  you  not  to 
weep  for  Washington.  We  ask  you  not  to  view  those 
eyes,  now  sunk  hollow,  which  formerly  darted  their 
lightning  flashes  against  your  enemies — nor  to  feel 
that  heart,  now  faintly  laboring,  which  so  often  throb 
bed  with  more  than  mortal  joys  when  he  saw  his 
young  countrymen  charging  like  lions,  upon  the  foes 
of  liberty.  No  !  we  call  you  not  to  weep,  but  to  re 
joice.  Washington,  who  so  often  conquered  him- 
.self,  is  now  about  to  conquer  the  last  enemy. 

SILENT  and  sad  his  physicians  sat  by  his  bedside, 
looking  on  him  as  he  lay  panting  for  breath.  They 
thought  on  the  past,  and  the  tear  swelled  in  their 
eyes.  He  marked  it,  and,  stretching  out  his  hand 
to  them,  and  shaking  his  head,  said,  "  O  no  I  dorft! 
don't .'"  then  with  a  delightful  smile  added,  "  / am 
dying*  gentltmen  I  but,  thank  God^  I  am  not  afraid 
to  die." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  169 

FEELING  that  the  hour  of  his  departure  out  of 
this  world  was  at  hand,  he  desired  that  every  body 
would  quit  the  room.  They  all  went  out ;  and,  ac 
cording  to  his  wish,  left  him — with  his  God. 

THERE,  by  himself,  like  Moses  alone  on  the  top 
of  Pisgah,  ke  seeks  the  face  of  God.  There,  by  him- 
self,  standing  as  on  the  awful  boundary  that  divides 
time  from  eternity,  that  separates  this  world  from 
the  next,  he  cannot  quit  the  long  frequented  haunts 
of  the  one,  nor  launch  away  into  the  untried  regions 
of  the  other,  until  (in  humble  imitation  of  the  world's 
great  Redeemer)  he  has  poured  forth,  into  the  bosom 
of  his  God,  those  strong  sensations  which  the  solem 
nity  of  his  situation  naturally  suggested. 

WITH  what  angelic  fervor  did  he  adore  that  Al 
mighty  Love,  which,  though  inhabiting  the  heaven  of 
heavens,  deigned  to  wake  his  sleeping  dust — framed 
him  so  fearfully  in  the  womb — nursed  him  on  a  ten 
der  mother's  breast — watched  his  helpless  infancy — 
guarded  his  heedless  youth — preserved  him  from  the 
dominion  of  his  passions — inspired  him  with  the  love 
of  virtue — led  him  safely  up  to  man — and,  from  such 
low  beginnings,  advanced  him  to  such  unparalleled 
usefulness  and  glory  among  men  !  These,  and  ten 
thousand  other  precious  gifts  heaped  on  him,  un 
asked — many  of  them  long  before  he  had  the  know 
ledge  to  ask — overwhelmed  his  soul  with  gratitude 
unutterable ;  exalted  to  infinite  heights  his  ideas  of 
eternal  love;  and  bade  him  without  fear  resign  his 
departing  spirit  into  the  arms  of  his  Redeemer  God, 
whose  mercies  are  over  all  his  works. 

HE  is  now  about  to  leave  the  great  family  of  manT 
in  which  he  has  so  long  sojourned !  The  yearnings  of 
his  soul  are  over  his  brethren !  How  fervently  does 
he  adore  that  goodness,  which  enabled  him  to  be  so 
serviceable  to  them  !  that  grace,,  which  preserved 
him  from  injuring  them  bj^  violence  or  fraud  !  How 
fervently  does  he  pray,  that  the  unsuffering  kingdom 


170  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

of  God  may  come,  and  that  the  earth  may  be  filled 
with  the  richest  fruits  of  righteousness  and  peace! 

HE  is  now  about  to  leave  his  country  /  that  dear 
spot  which  gave  him  birth — that  dear  spot  for  which 
he  has  so  long  watched  and  prayed,  so  long  toiled 
and  fought ;  and  whose  beloved  children  he  has  so 
often  sought  to  gather,  "  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her 
chickens  under  her  wings."  He  sees  them  now  spread 
abroad  like  flocks  in  goodly  pastures  ;  like  favoured 
Israel  in  the  land  of  promise.  He  remembers  how 
God,  by  a  mighty  hand,  and  by  an  outstretched  arm, 
brought  their  fathers  into  this  good  land,  a  land  flow 
ing  with  milk  and  honey  ;  and  blessed  them  with  the 
olessings  of  heaven  above,  and  the  earth  beneath  ; 
with  the  blessings  of  LIBERTY  and  of  PEACE,  of  RELI 
GION  and  of  LAWS,  above  all  other  people.  He  sees 
that,  through  the  rich  mercies  of  God,  they  have 
now  the  precious  opportunity  to  continue  their  coun 
try  the  GLORY  of  the  earth,  and  a  refuge  for  the  poor, 
and  for  the  persecuted  of  all  lands  !  The  transporting 
sight  of  such  a  cloud  of  blessings,  impending  close 
over  the  heads  of  his  countrymen,  together  with  the 
distressing  uncertainty  whether  they  will  put  forth 
their  hands  and  enjoy  them,  shakes  the  parent  soul 
of  Washington  with  feelings  too  strong"  for  his  dying1 
crame !  The  last  tear  that  he  is  ever  to  shed,  now 
steals  into  his  eye — the  last  groan  that  he  is  ever  to 
neave,  is  about  to  issue  from  his  faintly  labouring 
heart ! 

FEELING  that  the  silver  cord  of  life  is  loosing,  and 
that  his  spirit  is  ready  to  quit  her  old  companion,  the 
body,  he  extends  himself  on  his  bed — closes  his  eyes 
for  the  last  time  with  his  own  hands — folds  his  arms 
decently  on  his  breast,  then  breathing  out  "  Father  of 
'nercies^  take  me  to  thyself" — he  fell  asleep. 

SWIFT  on  angels'  wings  the  brightening  saint  as 
cended  ;  while  voices  more  than  human  were  warb 
ling  through  the  happy  regions,  and  hymning  the 
great  procession  towards  the  gates  of  heaven.  His 
glorious  coming  was  seen  afar  off;  and  myriads  of 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  171 

mighty  angels  hastened  forth,  with  golden  harps,  to 
welcome  the  honoured  stranger.  High  in  front  of 
the  shouting  hosts,  were  seen  the  beauteous  forms 
of  FRANKLIN,  WARREN,  MERCER,  SCAMMEL,  and 
of  HIM  who  fell  at  Quebec,  with  all  the  virtuous 
PATRIOTS,  who,  on  the  side  of  Columbia,  toiled  or 
bled  for  liberty  and  truth.  But  oh  !  how  changed 
from  what  they  were,  when,  in  their  days  of  flesh, 
bathed  in  sweat  and  blood,  they  fell  at  the  parent  feet 
of  their  weeping  country!  Not  the  homeliest  infant 
suddenly  springing  into  a  soul-enchanting  Hebe — not 
dreary  winter  suddenly  brightening  into  spring,  with 
all  her  bloom  and  fragrance,  ravishing  the  senses, 
could  equal  such  a  glorious  change.  Oh  !  where  are 
now  their  wrinkles  and  grey  hairs?  Where  their 
ghastly  wounds  and  clotted  blood  ?  Their  forms  are 
of  the  stature  of  angels — their  robes  like  morning 
clouds  streaked  with  gold — the  stars  of  heaven,  like 
crowns,  glitter  on  their  heads — immortal  yoath, 
celestial  rosy  red,  sits  blooming  on  their  cheeks,  while 
infinite  benignity  and  love  beam  from  their  eyes. 
Such  were  the  forms  of  thy  sons,  O  Columbia !  such 
the  brother  band  of  thy  martyred  saints,  that  now 
poured  forth  from  heaven's  wide  opening  gates,  to 
meet  thy  Washington  ;  to  meet  their  beloved  chief, 
who,  in  the  days  of  his  mortality,  had  led  their  em 
battled  squadrons  to  the  war.  At  sight  of  him,  even 
these  blessed  spirits  seem  to  feel  new  raptures,  and  to 
look  more  dazzlingly  bi  ight.  In  joyous  throngs  they 
pour  around  him — they  devour  him  with  their  eyes 
of  love — they  embrace  him  in  transports  of  tender 
ness  unutterable ;  while  from  their  roseate  cheeks, 
tears  of  joy,  such  as  angels  weep,  roll  down. 

ALL  that  followed  was  too  much  for  the  over-daz 
zled  eye  of  Imagination.  She  was  seen  to  return,  with 
the  quick  panting  bosom  and  looks  entranced  of  a 
fond  mother,  near  swooning  at  sudden  sight  of  a  dear 
loved  son,  deemed  lost,  but  now  found,  and  raised  to 
kingly  honours  /  She  was  heard  passionately  to  ex 
claim,  with  palms  and  eyes  lifted  to  heaven,  "  0,  who 


172          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

can  count  the  stars  of  Jacob,  or  number  the  fourth  part 
of  the  blessings  of  Israel! — Let  me  die  the  death  oj 
Washington  I  and  may  my  latter  end  be  like  his  /" 

LET  us  now  return  to  all  that  remained  of  Wash 
ington  on  earth.  He  had  expressly  ordered  in  his 
will,  that  he  should  be  buried  in  a  private  manner,  and 
-without  any  parade.  But  this  was  impossible;  for 
who  could  stay  at  home  when  it  was  said,  "  To-day 
general  Washington  is  to  be  buried^  On  the  morn 
ing  of  the  18th,  which  was  fixed  on  for  his  funeral, 
the  people  poured  in  by  thousands  to  pay  him  the  last 
respect,  and,  as  they  said,  to  take  their  last  look.  And, 
while  they  looked  on  him,  nature  stirred  that  at  their 
hearts,  which  quickly  brought  the  best  blood  into 
their  cheeks,  and  rolled  down  the  tears  from  their 
eyes.  About  two  o'clock  they  bore  him  to  his  long 
home,  and  buried  him  in  his  own  family  vault,  near 
the  banks  of  the  great  Potomac.  And  to  this  day, 
often  as  the  ships  of  war  pass  that  way,  they  waken 
up  the  thunder  of  their  loudest  guns,  pointed  to  the 
spot,  as  if  to  tell  the  sleeping  hero,  that  he  is  not  for 
gotten  in  his  narrow  dwelling. 

THE  news  of  his  death  soon  reached  Philadelphia, 
where  Congress  was  then  in  session.  A  question  of 
importance  being  on  the  carpet  that  day,  the  house, 
as  usual,  was  much  interested.  But,  soon  as  it  was 
announced — "GENERAL  WASHINGTON  is  DEAD" — 
an  instant  stop  was  put  to  all  business — the  tongue  of 
the  orator  was  struck  dumb — and  a  midnight  silence 
ensued,  save  when  it  was  interrupted  by  deepest  sighs 
of  the  members,  as,  with  drooping  foreheads  rested 
on  their  palms,  they  sat,  each  absorbed  in  mournful 
cogitation.  Presently,  as  utterly  unfit  for  business, 
both  houses  adjourned;  and  the  members  retired 
slow  and  sad  to  their  lodgings,  like  men  who  had 
suddenly  heard  of  the  death  of  a  father. 

FOR  several  days  hardly  any  thing  was  done  in 
Congress ;  hardly  any  thing  thought  of  but  to  talk  of 
and  to  praise  the  departed  Washington.  In  this  patrio 
tic  work  all  parties  joined  with  equal  alacrity  ad  ear- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  173 

nestness.  In  this  all  were  federalists,  all  were  repub 
licans.  Elegant  addresses  were  exchanged  between 
the  two  houses  of  Congress  and  the  President,  and 
all  of  them  replete  with  genius  and  gratitude. 

THEN,  by  unanimous  consent,  Congress  came  to 
the  following  resolutions : 

1st.  THAT  a  grand  marble  monument  should 
erected  at  the  city  of  Washington,  under  which 
with  permission  of  his  lady,  the  body  of  the  ge 
neral  should  be  deposited. 

2d.  THAT  there  should  be  a  funeral  procession 

from  congress  hall  to  the    German  Lutheran 

church,   to  hear  an  oration  delivered  by  one  of 

the  members  of  congress. 

3d.  THAT  the  members  of  congress  should  wear 

full  mourning  during  the  session. 
4th.  THAT  it  should  be  recommended  to  the  ptv- 
ple  of  the  U"nited  States  to  wear  crape  on 
left  arm,  as  mourning,  for  thirty  clays. 
BUT,  thank  God,  the  people  of  the  United  States 
needed  not  the  hint  contained  in  the  last  resolution. 
Though  they  could  not  all  very  elegantly  speak,  yet 
their  actions  showed  that  they  all  very  deeply  felt 
what  they  owed  to  Washington,     For,  in  every  city, 
village,  and  hamlet,  the  people  were  so  struck  on 
hearing  of  his  death,  that  long  before  they  heard  o 
the  resolution  of  congress,  they  ran  together  to  ease 
their  troubled  minds  in  talking  and  hearing  talk.  o. 
Washington,  and  to  devise  some  public  mode  of  tes 
tifying  their  sorrow  for  his  death.     Every  where 
throughout  the  continent,  churches  and  court  houses 
were  hung  in  black,   mourning  was  put  on,  proces 
sions  were  made,  and  sermons  preached,    while  the 
crowded  houses  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  praises 
of  Washington,  or  sighed  and  wept  when  they  heard 
of  his  toils  and  battles  for  his  country. 
Q2 


174          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

>.^yt  •;»•-.•<••/,:.",.•.; -Xn^A^-V  fi::^;:llnj[  S|:^?|S  Si 
CHAPTER  XIII. 

CHARACTER  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Let  the  poor  witling  argue  all  he  can, 
It  is  Religion  still  that  makes  the  man. 

WHEN  the  children  of  the  years  to  come,  hear 
ing  his  great  name  re-echoed  from  every  lip,  shall 
say  to  their  fathers,  "  What  was  it  that  raised  Wash 
ington  to  such  height  of  glory  ?"  let  thc-m  be  told  thnt 

it  Was  HIS    GREAT  TALENTS,    CONSTANTLY  GUIDED 

AND  GUARDED  BY  RELIGION.  For  how  shall  man, 
frail  man,,  prone  to  inglorious  ease  and  pleasure,  ever 
ascend  the  arduous  steps  of  virtue,  unless  animated 
by  the  mighty  hopes  of  religion  ?  Or  what  shall  stop 
him  in  his  swift  descent  to  infamy  and  vice,  if  un- 
awed  by  that  dread  power,  which  proclaims  to  the 
guilty  that  their  secret  crimes  are  seen,  and  shall  not 
go  unpunished  ?  Hence,  the  wise,  in  all  ages,  have 
pronounced,  that  u  there  never  was  a  truly  great 
man  •without  religion" 

THERE  have,  indeed,  been  courageous  generals^ 
and  cunning  statesmen,  without  religion,  but  mere 
courage  or  cunning,  however  transcendent,  never  yet 
made  a  great  man. 

"  ADMIT  that  this  can  conquer,  that  can  cheat! 
44  'Tis  phrase  absurd,  to  call  a  villain  great ! 
4<  Who  wickedly  is  wise,  or  madly  brave, 
"  Is  but  the  more  a  fool,  the  more  a  knave." 

No  !  to  be  truly  great,  a  man  must  have  not  only 
great  talents,  but  those  talents  must  be  constantly  ex 
erted  on  great,  i.  e.  good  actions — and  perseveringly 
too — for  if  he  should  turn  aside  to  vice — farewell  to 
his  heroism.  Hence,  when  Epaminondas  was  asked 
which  was  the  greatest  man,  himself  or  Pelopidas? 
he  replied,  <c  wait  till  we  are  aead :"  meaning  that 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  175 

the  all  of  heroism  depends  on  perseverance  in  great 
and  good  actions.  But  sensual  and  groveling  as 
man  is,  what  can  incline  and  elevate  him  to  those 
things  like  religion,  that  divine  power,  to  whom  alone 
it  belongs  to  present  those  vast  and  eternal  goods  and 
ills  which  best  alarm  our  fears,  enrapture  our  hopes, 
inflame  the  worthiest  loves,  rouse  the  truest  avarice, 
and  in  short,  touch  every  spring  and  passion  of  our 
souls  in  favour  of  virtue  and  noble  actions. 

DID  SHAME  restrain  Alcibiades  from  a  base  action 
in  the  presence  of  Socrates  ?  "  Behold"  says  Religion, 
"  a  greater  than  Socrates  is  here  /" 

DID  LOVE  embolden  Jacob  to  brave  fourteen  years 
of  slavery  for  an  earthly  beauty?  Religion  springs  that 
eternal  love,  for  whose  sake  good  men  can  even  glo 
ry  in  laborious  duties. 

DID  the  ambition  of  a  civic  crown  animate  Scipio 
to  heroic  deeds  ?  Religion  holds  a  crown,  at  the  sight 
of  which  the  laurels  of  a  Caesar  droop  to  weeds. 

DID  avarice  urge  Cortez  through  a  thousand  toils 
and  dangers  for  wealth  ?  Religion  points  to  those 
treasures  in  heaven,  compared  to  which  all  diamond 
beds  and  mines  of  massy  gold  are  but  trash. 

DID  good  Aurelius  study  the  happiness  of  his  sub 
jects  for  this  world's  glory  ?  Religion  displays  that 
world  of  glory,  where  those  who  have  laboured  to 
make  others  happy,  shall  "  shine  like  stars  for  ever 
and  for  ever" 

DOES  the  FEAR  of  death  deter  man  from  horrid 
crimes  ?  Religion  adds  infinite  horrors  to  that  fear — 
it  warns  them  of  a  death  both  of  soul  and  body  in  hell. 

IN  short,  what  motives  under  heaven  can  restrain 
men  from  vices  and  crimes,  and  urge  them  on,  full 
stretch,  after  individual  and  national  happiness,  like 
those  of  religion?  For  lack  of  these  motives,  alas! 
how  many  who  once  dazzled  the  world  with  the  glare 
of  their  exploits,  are  now  eclipsed  and  set  to  rise  no 
more ! 

THERE  was  Arnold,  who,  in  courage  and  military 
talents,  glittered  in  the  same  firmament  with  Wash- 


176  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

ington,  and,  for  a  while,  his  face  shone  like  the  star 
of  the  morning  ;  but  alas  !  for  lack  of  Washington's 
religion,  he  soon  fell,  like  Lucifer,  from  a  heaven  of 
glory,  into  an  abyss  of  never  ending  infamy. 

AND  there  was  general  Charles  Lee,  too,  confessed 
ly  a  great  wit,  a  great  scholar,  a  great  soldier,  but,  af 
ter  all,  not  a  great  man.  For,  through  lack  of  that 
magnanimous  benevolence  which  religion  inspires,  he 
fell  into  the  vile  state  of  envy :  and,  on  the  plains  of 
Monmouth,  rather  than  fight  to  immortalize  Wash 
ington,  he  chose  to  retreat  and  disgrace  himself. 

THERE  was  the  gallant  general  Hamilton  also — a 
gigantic  genius — a  statesman  fit  to  rule  the  mightiest 
monarchy — a  soldier  "fit  to  standby  Washington  and 
give  command"  But  alas!  for  lack  of  religion,  see 
how  all  was  lost !  preferring  the  praise  of  man  to  that 
praise  "  which  cometh  from  God"  and  pursuing  the 
phantom  honour  up  to  the  pistol's  mouth,  he  is  cut 
off  at  once  from  life  and  greatness,  and  leaves  his 
family  and  country  to  mourn  his  hapless  fate. 

AND  there  was  the  fascinating  colonel  Burr.  A  man 
born  to  be  great — brave  as  Caesar,  polished  as  Ches 
terfield,  eloquent  as  Cicero.  Lifted  by  the  strong 
arm  of  his  country,  he  rose  fast,  and  bade  fair  soon 
to  fill  the  place  where  Washington  had  sat.  But  alas  ! 
lacking  religion,  he  could  not  wait  the  spontaneous 
fall  of  the  rich  honors  ripening  over  his  head,  but  in 
evil  hour  stretched  forth  his  hand  to  the  forbidden 
fruit,  and  by  that  fatal  act  was  cast  out  from  the  Eden 
of  our  republic,  and  amerced  of  greatness  for  ever. 

BUT  why  should  I  summon  the  Arnolds  and  Lees, 
the  Hamiltons  and  Burrs  of  the  earth,  to  give  sad  evi 
dence,  that  no  valour,  no  genius  alone  can  make  men 
great  ?  Do  we  not  daily  meet  with  instances,  of  youth 
amiable  and  promising  as  their  fond  parents'  wishes, 
who  yet,  merely  for  lack  of  religion,  soon  make  ship 
wreck  of  every  precious  hope,  sacrificing  their  gold 
to  gamblers,  their  heal'th  to  harlots,  and  their  glory 
to  grog — making  conscience  their  curse,  this  life  a 
purgatory,  and  the  next  a  hell!  In  fact,  a  voung  man, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  177 

though  of  the  finest  talents  and  education,  without  re 
ligion,  is  but  like  a  gorgeous  ship  without  ballast. 
Highly  painted,  and  with  flowing  canvass,  she  laun 
ches  out  on  the  deep;  and,  during  a  smooth  sea  and 
gentle  breeze,  she  moves  along  stately  as  the  pride  of 
ocean;  but,  as  soon  as  the  stormy  winds  descend, 
nnd  the  blackening  billows  begin  to  roll,  suddenly  she 
is  overset,  and  disappears  for  ever.  But  who  is  this 
coming  thus  gloriously  along,  with  masts  towering 
to  heaven,  and  his  sails  white,  looming  like  the  moun 
tain  of  suows?  Who  is  it  but  '•''Columbia's first  and 
greatest  son  /"  whose  talents,  like  the  sails  of  a  migh 
ty  ship,  spread  far  and  wide,  catching  the  gales  of 
heaven,  while  his  capacious  soul,  stored  with  the  rich 
ballast  of  religion,  remains  firm  and  unshaken  as  the 
ponderous  rock.  The  worm  zephyrs  of  prosperity 
breathe  meltingly  upon  him — the  rough  storms  of  ad 
versity  descend — the  big  billows  of  affliction  dash : 
but  nothing  can  move  him.  His  eye  is  fixed  on  God ! 
the  present  joys  of  an  approving  conscience,  and  the 
hope  of  that  glory  which  fadeth  not  away — these 
comfort  and  support  him. 

u  There  exists"  says  Washington,  u  in  the  economy 
of  nature,  an  inseparable  connexion  between  duty  and 
advantage" — The  whole  life  of  this  great  man  bears 
glorious  witness  to  the  truth  of  this  his  favorite  apho 
rism.  At  the  giddy  age  of  fourteen,  when  the  spi 
rits  of  youth  are  all  on  tiptoe  for  freedom  and  ad 
ventures,  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  go  to  sea :  but, 
very  opposite  to  his  wishes,  his  mother  declared  that 
she  could  not  bear  to  part  with  him.  His  trial  must 
have  been  very  severe ;  for  I  have  been  told  that  a 
midshipman's  commission  was  actually  in  his  pocket 
— his  trunk  of  clothes  on  board  the  ship— his  honour 
in  some  sort  pledged — his  young  companions  impor 
tunate  with  him  to  go — and  his  whole  soul  panting 
for  the  promised  pleasures  of  the  voyage.  But  re 
ligion  whispered  "honour  thy  mother,  and  grieve 
not  the  spirit  of  her  who  bore  thee" 


178  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

INSTANTLY  the  glorious  boy  sacrificed  inclination 
to  duty — dropt  all  thought  of  the  voyage — and  gave 
tears  of  joy  to  his  widowed  mother,  in  clasping  to 
her  bosom  a  dear  child  who  could  deny  himself  his 
fondest  wishes  to  make  her  happy. 

'Tis  said,  that  when  he  saw  the  last  boat  going  on 
board,  with  several  of  his  youthful  friends  in  it — 
when  he  saw  the  flash,  and  heard  the  report  of  the 
signal  gun  for  sailing,  and  the  ship  in  all  her  pride 
of  canvass  rounding  off  for  sea,  he  could  not  bear  it ; 
but  turned  away  ;  and,  half  choaked  with  grief,  went 
into  the  room  where  his  mother  sat.  "  George,  my 
dear  .'"  said  she  "  have  you  already  repented  that  you 
made  your  mother  so  happy  just  now  f  Upon  this, 
falling  on  her  bosom,  with  his  arms  around  her  neck, 
and  a  gush  of  tears,  he  said  :  u  my  dear  mother,  I 
must  not  deny  that  I  am  sorry.  But,  indeed,  I  jeel 
that  I  should  be  much  more  sorry,  -were  Ion  board 
the  ship,  and  knew  that  you  -were  unhappy" 

*c  WELL,"  replied  she,  embracing  him  tenderly, 
"  God,  I  hope,  will  reward  my  dear  boy  for  this,  some 
day  or  other."  Now  see  here,  young  reader  ;  and 
learn  that  HE  who  prescribes  our  duty,  is  able  to  re 
ward  it.  Had  George  left  his  fond  mother  to  a 
broken  heart,  and  gone  off  to  sea,  'tis  next  to  certain 
that  he  would  never  have  taken  that  active  part  in 
the  French  and  Indian  war,  which,  by  securing  him 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  paved  the  way  for  all 
his  future  greatness. 

Now  for  another  instance  of  the  wonderful  effect 
of  religion  on  Washington's  fortune.  Shortly  after  re 
turning  from  the  war  of  Cuba,  Lawrence  (his  half 
brother)  was  taken  with  the  consumption,  which 
made  him  so  excessively  fretful,  that  his  own  bro 
ther  Augustin  would  seldom  come  near  him*  But 
George,  whose  heart  was  early  under  the  softening 
and  sweetening  influences  of  religion,  felt  such  a  ten 
derness  for  his  poor  sick  brother,  that  he  not  only 
submitted  to  his  peevishness,  but  seemed,  from  what 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  179 

I  have  been  told,  never  so  happy  as  when  he  was 
with  him.  He  accompanied  him  to  the  island  of 
Bermuda,  in  quest  of  health — and,  after  their  return 
to  Mount  Vernon,  as  often  as  his  duty  tojord  Fair 
fax  permitted,  he  would  come  down  from  the  back 
woods  to  see  him.  And,  while  with  him,  he  was  al 
ways  contriving  or  doing  something  to  cheer  and 
comfort  his  brother.  Sometimes  with  his  gun  he 
would  go  out  in  quest  of  partridges  and  snipes,  and 
other  fine-flavored  game,  to  tempt  his  brother's  sick 
ly  appetite,  and  gain  him  strength.  At  other  times 
he  would  sit  for  hours  and  read  to  him  some  enter 
taining  book  :  and,  when  his  cough  came  on,  he 
would  support  his  drooping  head,  and  wipe  the  cold 
dew  from  his  forehead,  or  the  phlegm  from  his  lips, 
and  give  him  his  medicine,  or  smooth  his  pillow  ; 
and  all  with  such  alacrity  and  artless  tenderness  as 
proved  the  sweetest  cordial  to  his  brother's  spirits. 
For  he  wras  often  heard  to  say  to  the  Fairfax  family, 
into  which  he  married,  that  "  he  should  think  nothing 
of  his  sickness,  if  he  could  but  always  have  his  brother 
Georgewith  him."  Well,  what  was  the  consequence  ? 
Why,  when  Lawrence  was  dying,  he  left  almost 
the  whole  of  his  large  estate  to  George,  which  served 
as  another  noble  step  to  his  future  greatness. 

For  further  proof  of  "the  inseparable  connexion  be 
tween  duty  and  advantage"  let  us  look  at  Washing 
ton's  conduct  through  the  French  and  Indian  war. 
To  a  man  of  his  uncommon  military  mind,  and  skill 
in  the  arts  of  Indian  warfare,  the  pride  and  precipi 
tance  of  general  Braddock  must  have  been  excessive 
ly  disgusting  and  disheartening.  But  we  hear  no 
thing  of  his  threatening  either  to  leave  or  supplant 
Braddock.  On  the  contrary,  he  nobly  brooked  his 
rude  manners;  gallantly  obeyed  his  rash  orders  -T 
and,  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  endeavoured  to  correct 
their  fatal  tendencies. 

AND,  after  the  death  of  Braddock,  and  the  deser 
tion  ofDunbar,  that  weak  old  man,  governor  Dinwid- 
die,  added  infinitely  to  his  hardships  and  hazards,  by 


180          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

appointing  him  to  the  defence  of  the  frontiers,  and 
yet  withholding  the  necessary  forces  and  supplies. 
But  though  by  that  means  the  western  country  was 
continually  overrun  by  the  enemy,  and  cruelly  de 
luged  in  blood — though  much  wearied  in  body  by 
marchings  and  watchings,  and  worse  tortured  in  soul, 
by  the  murders  and  desolations  of  the  inhabitants, 
he  shrinks  not  from  duty — still  seeking  the  smiles  of 
conscience  as  his  greatest  good;  and  as  the  sorest 
evil,  dreading  its  frowns,  he  bravely  maintained  his 
ground,  and,  after  three  years  of  unequalled  dan 
gers  and  difficulties,  succeeded. 

WELL,  what  was  the  consequence?  why  it  drew 
upon  him,  from  his  admiring  countrymen,  such  an 
unbounded  confidence  in  his  principles  and  patriot 
ism,  as  secured  him  the  command  of  the  American 
armies,  in  the  revolutionary  war! 

AND  there  again  the  connexion  between  "duty  and 
advantage"  was  as  gloriously  displayed.  For  though 
congress  was,  in  legal  and  political  knowledge,  an 
enlightened  body,  and  for  patriotism  equal  to  the  se 
nate  of  Republican  Rome,  yet  certainly  in  military 
matters  they  were  no  more  to  be  compared  to  him, 
than  those  others  were  to  Hannibal.  But  still,  though 
they  were  constantly  thwarting  his  counsels,  and,  in 
place  of  good  soldiers,  sending  him  raw  militia,  thus 
compelling  inactivity,  or  insuring  defeat— dragging 
out  the  war — dispiriting  the  nation— -and  disgracing 
him,  yet  we  hear  from  him  no  gusts  of  passion — no 
dark  intrigues  to  supplant  congress — and  with  the 
help  of  an  idolizing  nation  and  army,  to  snatch  the 
power  from  their  hands,  and  make  himself  king.  On 
the  contrary,  he  continues  to  treat  congress  as  a  vir 
tuous  son  his  respected  parents.  He  points  out  wiser 
measures,  but  in  defect  of  their  adoption,  makes  the 
best  use  of  tbose  they  give  him,  and  at  length, through 
the  mighty  blessing  of  God,  established  the  indepen 
dence  of  his  country ;  and  then  went  back  to  his  plough. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  181 

WELL,  what  was  the  consequence?  Why,  these 
noble  acts  so  completely  filled  up  the  measure  of  his 
country's  love  for  him,  as  to  give  him  that  first 
of  all  felicities,  the  felicity  to  be  regarded  as  the 
guardian  angel  of  his  country,  and  to  be  able,  by  the 
magic  of  his  name,  to  scatter  every  cloud  of  danger 
that  gathered  over  her  head. 

FOR  example,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  when  the 
army,  about  to  be  disbanded  without  their  wages, 
were  wrought  up  to  such  a  pitch  of  discontent  and 
rage,  as  seriously  to  threaten  civil  war,  see  the  won 
derful  influence  which  their  love  for  him  gave  him 
over  themselves  !  In  the  height  of  their  passion,  and 
that  a  very  natural  passion  too,  he  merely  makes  a 
short  speech  to  them,  and  the  storm  is  laid  !  the  tu 
mult  subsides  !  and  the  soldiers,  after  all  their  hard 
ships,  consent  to  ground  their  arms,  and  return 
home  without  a  penny  in  the,ir  pockets  !  ! ! 

ALSO,  in  that  very  alarming  dispute  between  Ver 
mont  and  Pennsylvania,  when  the  furious  parties,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  congress  and  their  gover 
nors,  had  actually  shouldered  their  guns,  and  were 
dragging  on  their  cannon  fora  bloody  fight — Wash 
ington  only  gave  them  a  few  lines  of  his  advice,  and 
they  instantly  faced  about  for  their  homes  ;  and  lay 
ing  by  their  weapons,  seized  their  ploughs  again, 
like  dutiful  children,  on  whose  kindling  passions  a 
beloved  father  had  shaken  his  hoary  locks  ! ! 

AND,  in  the  western  counties  of  Pennsylvania, 
where  certain  blind  patriots  affecting  to  strain  at  the 
gnat  of  a  small  excise,  but  ready  enough  to  swallow 
the  infernal  camel  of  rebellion,  had  kindled  the 
flames  of  civil  war,  and  thrown  the  whole  nation  in 
to  a  tremor,  Washington  had  just  to  send  around  a 
circular  to  the  people  of  the  union,  stating  the  infi 
nite  importance  of  maintaining  the  SACRED  REIGN 
OF  THE  LAWS,  and  instantly  twenty  thousand  well 
armed  volunteers  marched  among  the  insurgents 
and,  without  shedding  a  drop  of  blood,  extinguished 
the  insurrection. 

K 


182          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

IN  short,  it  were  endless  to  enumerate  the  many 
dire  insurrections  and  blood/  wars  which  were 
averted  from  this  country  by  Washington,  and  all 
through  the  divine  force  of  early  Religion  !  for  it  was 
this  that  enabled  him  inflexibly  to  do  his  duty,  by 
imitating  God  in  his  glorious  works  of  wisdom  and 
benevolence  ;  and  all  the  rest  followed  as  naturally 
as  light  follows  the  sun. 

WE  have  seen,  at  page  17  of  this  little  work,  with 
what  pleasure  the  youthful  Washington  hung  upon 
his  father's  lip,  while  descanting  on  the  adorable 
wisdom  and  benevolent  designs  of  God  in  all  parts 
of  this  beautiful  and  harmonious  creation.  By  such 
essons  in  the  book  of  nature,  this  virtuous  youth 
was  easily  prepared  for  the  far  higher  and  surer  lec 
tures  of  revelation,  I  mean  that  blessed  gospel  which 
contains  the  MORAL  philosophy  of  heaven.  There 
he  learnt,  that  u  God  is  love  ;" — and  that  all  he  de 
sires,  with  respect  to  men,  is  to  glorify  himself  in 
their  happiness  ;  and  since  VIRTUE  is  indispensable 
to  that  happiness,  the  infinite  and  eternal  weight  of 
God's  attributes  must  be  in  favour  of  virtue,  and 
against  vice  j  and  consequently  that  God  will  sooner 
or  later  gloriously  reward  the  one,  and  punish  the 
other.  This  was  the  creed  of  Washington.  And 
looking  on  it  as  the  only  basis  of  human  virtue  and 
happiness,  he  very  cordially  embraced  it  himself, 
and  wished  for  nothing  so  much  as  to  see  all  others 
embrace  it. 

I  HAVE  often  been  informed  by  colonel  B.  Tem 
ple,  (of  King  William  County,  Virginia,)  who  was 
one  of  his  aids  in  the  French  and  Indian  war,  that  he 
has  frequently  known  Washington,  on  the  Sabbath, 
read  scriptures  and  pray  with  his  regiment,  in  the 
absence  of  the  chaplain  ;  and  also  that,  on  sudden  and 
unexpected  visits  into  his  marquee,  he  has,  more 
than  once,  found  him  on  his  knets  at  his  devotions. 

THE  Reverend  Mr  JL.ee  Massey,  long  a  rector  of 
Washington's  parish,  and  from  early  life  his  inti 
mate,  has  frequentlv  assured  me  that  "  he  never 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  183 

"  knew  so  constant  an  attendant  on  church  as  Wash* 
"  ington.  And  his  behaviour  in  the  house  of  God," 
added  my  reverend  friend,  "  was  so  deeply  reveren- 
"  tial,  that  it  produced  the  happiest  effects  on  my 
"  congregation  ;  and  greatly  assisted  me  in  mymo- 
"  ralizing  labours.  No  company  ever  withheld  him 
"  from  church.  I  have  often  been  at  Mount  Ver* 
"  non,  on  the  sabbath  morning,  when  his  breakfast 
"  table  was  filled  with  guests.  But  to  him  they 
"  furnished  no  pretext  for  neglecting  his  God,  and 
"  losing  the  satisfaction  of  setting  a  good  example. 
"  For  instead  of  staying  at  home,  out  of  false  com- 
"  plaisance  to  them,  he  used  constantly  to  invite 
"  them  to  accompany  him." 

His  secretary,  judge  Harrison,  has  frequently 
been  heard  to  say,  that  "  whenever  the  general 
**  could  be  spared  from  camp  on  the  sabbath,  he 
"  never  failed  riding  out  to  some  neighbouring 
"  church,  to  join  those  who  were  publicly  worship- 
"  ping  the  Great  Creator." 

AND  while  he  resided  in  Philadelphia,  as  presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  his  constant  and  cheer 
ful  attendance  on  divine  service  was  such  as  to  con 
vince  every  reflecting  mind,  that  he  deemed  no  levee 
so  honourable  as  that  of  his  Almighty  Maker  ;  no 
pleasures  equal  to  those  of  devotion  ;  and  no  busi 
ness  a  sufficient  excuse  for  neglecting  his  supreme 
benefactor. 

IN  the  winter  of '77,  while  Washington,  with  the 
American  army,  lay  encamped  at  Valley  Forge,  a 
certain  good  old  FRIEND,  of  the  respectable  family 
and  name  of  Potts,  if  I  mistake  not,  had  occasion  to 
pass  through  the  woods  near  head  quarters.  Tread 
ing  in  his  way  along  the  venerable  grove,  suddenly  he 
heard  the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  which,  as  he  ad 
vanced,  increased  on  his  ear;  and  at  length  became 
like  the  voice  of  one  speaking  much  in  earnest.  As 
he  approached  the  spot  with  a  cautious  step,  whom 
should  he  behold,  in  a  dark  natural  bower  of  ancient 
oaks,  but  the  commander  in  chief  of  the  American 


184          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

armies  on  his  knees  at  prayer!  Motionless  with  sur 
prise,  friend  Potts  continued  on  the  place  till  the 
general,  having  ended  his  devotions,  arose  ;  and,  with 
a  countenance  of  angelic  serenity,  retired  to  head 
quarters.  Friend  Potts  then  went  home,  and  on  en 
tering  his  parlour  called  out  to  his  wife,  "  Sarah  !  my 
"  dear  Sarah  !  all's  well !  all's  well !  George  Wash 
"  ington  will  yet  prevail!'7 

"  WHAT'S  the  matter,  Isaac  ?"  replied  she,  "  thee 
44  seems  moved." 

"  WELL,  if  I  seem  moved,  'tis  no  more  than  what 
44  I  really  am.  I  have  this  day  seen  what  I  never 
44  expected.  Thee  knows  that  I  always  thought  that 
4  the  sword  and  the  gospel  were  utterly  inconsistent; 
4t  and  that  no  man  could  be  a  soldier  and  a  Christian 
44  at  the  same  time.  But  George  Washington  has 
"  this  day  convinced  me  of  my  mistake." 

HE  then  related  what  he  had  seen,  and  concluded 
with  this  prophetical  remark — "  If  George  Wash- 
44  ington  be  not  a  man  ot  God,  I  am  greatly  deceived 
*'  . — and  still  more  shall  I  be  deceived,  if  God  do 
44  not,  through  him,  work  out  a  great  salvation  for 
44  America." 

WHEN  General  Washington  was  told  that  the 
British  troops  at  Lexington,  on  the  memorable  19th 
of  April,  1775,  had  fired  on  and  killed  several  of  the 
Americans,  he  replied,  "  I  grieve  for  the  death  of 
my  countrymen  ;  but  rejoice  that  the  British  are  still 
so  determined  to  keep  God  on  our  side"  alluding  to 
that  noble  sentiment  which  he  has  since  so  happily 
expressed  ;  viz.  u  The  smiles  of  Heaven  can  never 
be  expected  on  a  nation  that  disregards  the  eternal 
rules  of  order  and  right,  which  Heaven  itself  has  or- 
aained" 

WHEN  called  by  his  country  in  1775,  to  lead  her 
free-born  sons  against  tht  arms  of  Britain,  what 
charming  modesty,  what  noble  self-distrust,  what  pi 
ous  confidence  in  Heaven,  appeared  in  all  his  an 
swers.  "  My  diffidence  in  my  own  abilities"  says  he, 
•'  -was  superseded  by  a  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of 
44  our  cause,  and  the  patronage  of  Heaven" 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  185 

AND  when  called  to  the  presidency  by  the  unani 
mous  voice  of  the  nation,  thanking  him  tor  his  great 
services  past,  with  anticipations  of"  equally  great  to 
come,  his  answer  deserves  approbation. 

44  When  I  contemplate  the  interposition  of  Provi* 
44  dence,  as  it  was  visibly  manifested  in  guiding  us 
44  through  the  revolution — in  preparing  us  for  the  re 
44  ception  of  a  general  government — and  in  concilia- 
44  ting  the  good  will  of  the  people  of  America  towards 
44  one  another  after  its  adoption;  1  feel  myself  op- 
44  pressed  and  almost  over-whelmed  with  a  sense  of  the 
44  divine  munificence.  I  feel  that  nothing  is  due  to  my 
44  personal  agency  in  all  those  complicated  and  won- 
44  derful  events,  except  what  can  simply  be  attributed 
44  to  the  exertions  of  an  honest  zeal  for  the  good  of 
"  my  country" 

AND  when  he  presented  himself  for  the  first  time 
before  that  august  body,  the  congress  of  the  United 
States,  April  3Oth,  1789 — when  he  saw  before  him 
the  pride  of  Columbia  in  her  chosen  sons,  assembled 
to  consult  how  best  to  strengthen  the  chain  of  love 
between  the  states — to  preserve  friendship  and  har 
mony  with  fore'gn  powers — to  secure  the  blessings 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty — and  to  build  up  our 
young  republic  a  great  and  happy  peop4e  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth — never  patriot  entered  on  such 
important  business  with  fairer  hopes,  whether  we 
consider  the  unanimity  and  confidence  of  the  citi 
zens,  or  his  own  abilities  and  virtues,  and  those  of 
his  fellow-counsellors. 

BUT  all  this  would  not  do.  Nothing  short  of  the 
divine  friends  hip  could  satisfy  Washington.  Feeling 
the  magnitude,  difficulty,  and  danger  of  managing 
such  an  assemblage  of  communities  and  interests  ; 
dreading  the  machinations  of  bad  men,  and  well 
knowing  the  insufficiency  of  all  second  causes,  even 
the  best)  he  piously  reminds  congress  of  the  wisdom 
of  imploring  the  benediction  of  \hzgreat  first  Cause, 
without  which  he  kne\v  that  his  beloved  country 
would  never  prosper. 

R 


186          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

44  IT  would,"  says  he,  "  be  peculiarly  improper  to 
44  omit,  in  this  first  official  act,  my  fervent  supplica- 
"  tions  to  that  Almighty  Being  who  rules  over  the 
44  universe  ;  who  presides  in  the  councils  of  nations  ; 
44  and  whose  providential  aids  can  supply  every  hu- 
44  man  defect,  that  his  benediction  may  consecrate 
44  to  the  liberties  and  happiness  of  the  people  of  the 
44  United  States,  a  government  instituted  by  them- 
44  selves  for  these  essential  purposes;  and  may  enable 
44  every  instrument  employed  in  its  administration  to 
41  execute  with  success  the  functions  allotted  to  his 
44  charge.  In  tendering  this  homage  to  the  great 
44  Author  of  every  public  and  private  good,  I  assure 
44  myself  that  it  expresses  your  sentiments  not  less 
44  than  my  own  ;  nor  those  of  my  fellow-citizens  at 
44  large  less  than  either.  No  people  can  be  bound 
44  to  acknowledge  and  adore  the  invisible  hand  which 
44  conducts  the  affairs  of  men,  more  than  the  people 
44  of  the  United  States.  Every  step,  by  which  they 
44  have  advanced  to  the  character  of  an  independent 
44  nation,  seems  to  have  been  distinguished  by  some 
44  token  of  providential  agency.  These  reflection**; 
44  arising  out  of  the  present  crisis,  have  forced 
4*  themselves  too  strongly  on  my  mind  to  be  sup- 
44  pressed.  You  will  join  with  me,  I  trust,  in  think- 
44  ing,  that  there  are  none,  under  the  influence  of 
44  which  the  proceedings  of  a  new  and  free  govern- 
44  ment  can  more  auspiciously  commence." 

AND  after  having  come  near  to  the  close  of  this, 
the  most  sensible  and  virtuous  speech  ever  made  to  a 
sensible  and  virtuous  representation  of  a  free  people, 
he  adds — 44  I  shall  take  my  present  leave  ;  but  not 
44  without  resorting  once  more  to  the  benign  Parent 
44  of  the  human  race  in  humble  supplication,  that, 
44  since  he  has  been  pleased  to  favour  the  American 
44  people  with  opportunities  for  deliberating  with 
44  perfect  tranquillity,  and  dispositions  for  deciding 
4i  with  unparalleled  unanimity,  on  a  form  of  govetn 
44  ment  for  the  security  of  their  union,  and  tht  ail 

vancement  of  their  happiness  ;    so  his  divine,  bless 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  187 

"  ings  may  be  equally  conspicuous  in  the  enlarged 
41  views,  the  temperate  consultations,  and  the  wise 
"  measures,  on  which  the  success  of  this  govern- 
44  ment  must  depend." 

IN  this  constant  disposition  to  look  for  national 
happiness  only  in  national  morals,  flowing  from  the 
sublime  affections  and  blessed  hopes  of  Religion, 
Washington  agreed  with  those  great  legislators  of 
nations,  Moses,  Lycurgus,  and  Numa.  "  I  ask  not 
gold  for  Spartans"  said  Lye  urgus.  "  Virtue  is  better 
than  all  gold"  The  event  showed  his  wisdom — 
The  Spartans  were  invincible  so  long  as  they  re 
mained  virtuous — even  50O  years. 

44 1  ASK  not  wealth  for  Israel,"  cried  Moses. — "But 
44  O  that  they  were  wise  !...that  they  did  but  fear  God 
44  and  keep  his  commandments  !  The  Lord  himself 
44  would  be  their  sun  and  shield."  The  event  proved 
Moses  a  true  prophet.  For  while  they  were  religious 
they  were  unconquerable.  "  United  as  brothers,  swift 
44  as  eagles,  stronger  than  lions,  one  could  chase  a 
44  thousand  ;  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to  flight." 

44  OF  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to 
44  the.  prosperity  of  a  nation,"  says  Washington, 
44  Religion  is  the  indispensable  support.  Volumes 
44  could  not  trace  all  its  connexions  with  private  and 
44  puhlic  happiness.  Let  it  simply  be  asked,  where 
44  is  the  security  for  property,  for  reputation,  for 
4*  lil-.  itself,  if  there  be  no  fear  of  God  on  the  minds 
u  oil*  hose  who  give  their  oaths  in  courts  of  justice  " 

BVJT  some  will  tell  us,  that  human  laws  are  suffi 
cient  for  the  purpose  ! 

HUMAN  laws ! — Human  nonsense !  For  how  often, 
even  where  the  cries  and  screams  of  the  wretched 
called  aloud  for  lightning  speeded  vengeance,  have 
we  not  seen  the  sword  of  human  law  loiter  in  its  cow 
ard  scabbard,  afraid  of  angry  royalty  ?  Did  not  that 
vile  queen  Jezebel,  having  a  mind  to  complimen 
her  husband  with  a  vineyard  belonging  to  poor  Na- 
both,  suborn  a  couple  of  villains  to  take  a  false  oath 
against  him  ;  and  then  cause  him  to  be  dragged  out 


188  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

with  his  little  motherless,  crying  babes,  and  barba 
rously  stoned  to  death  ! 

GREAT  GOD  !  what  bloody  tragedies  have  been 
acted  on  the  poor  ones  of  the  earth,  by  kings  and 
great  men,  who  were  above  the  laws,  and  had  no 
sense  of  Religion  to  keep  them  in  awe  !..And  if  men 
be  not  above  the  laws,  yet  what  horrid  crimes !  what 
ruinous  robberies  !  what  wide-wasting  havoc !  what 
cruel  murders  may  they  not  commit  in  secret,  if  they 
be  not  withheld  by  the  sacred  arm  of  religion  !  "  In 
44  vain,  therefore,"  says  WASHINGTON,  "  would  that 
44  man  claim  the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who  should 
44  do  any  thing  to  discountenance  Religion  and  mora- 
44  lity,  those  great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  those 
44  firmest  props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens. 
44  The  mere  politician,  equally  with  the  pious  man, 
44  ought  to  respect  and  cherish  them." 

BUT  others  have  said,  and  with  a  serious  face  too, 
that  a  sense  of  honour  is  sufficient  to  pteserve  men 
from  base  actions  !  O  blasphemy  to  sense  !  Do  we 
not  daily  hear  of  men  of  honour,  by  dice  and  cards, 
draining  their  fellow-citizens  of  the  last  cent,  reduc 
ing  them  to  beggary,  or  driving  them  to  a  pistol  ? 
Do  we  not  daily  hear  of  men  of  honour  corrupting 
their  neighbours'  wives  and  daughters,  and  then 
murdering  the  husbands  and  brothers  in  dutls  ? 
Bind  such  selfish,  such  inhuman  beings,  by  a  sense 
of  honour  !  !  Why  not  bind  roaring  lions  with  cob 
webs  ?  "  No,"  exclaims  Washington,  4i  whatever 
41  sense  of  honour  may  do  on  men  of  refined  educa- 
44  tion,  and  on  minds  of  a  peculiar  structure,  reason 
44  and  experience  both  forbid  us  to  expect  that  na- 
44  tional  morality  can  prevail  in  exclusion  of  Reli- 
w  gious  principles. 

AVb  truly  Washington  had  abundant  reason,  from 
his  own  happy  experience,  to  recommend  Religion 
so  heartily  to  others. 

FOR  besides  all  those  inestimable  favours  which  he 
received  from  her ;  ^au  the  hands  of  her  celestial 
laughters,  the  Virlh^Jf;  she  threw  over  him  her  own 
magic  mantle  of  'Character.  And  it  was  this  that 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON*  189 

immortalized  Washington.  By  inspiring  his  coun 
trymen  with  the  profoundest  veneration  for  him  as 
the  best  of  men,  it  naturally  smoothed  his  way  to 
supreme  command  ;  so  that  when  War,  that  monster 
of  satan,came  on  roaring  against  America,  with  all 
his  death's  heads  and  garments  rolled  in  blood,  the 
nation  unanimously  placed  Washington  at  the  head 
of  their  armies,  from  a  natural  persuasion  that  so 
good  a  man  must  be  the  peculiar  favourite  of  Hea 
ven,  and  the  fastest  friend  of  his  country.  How  far 
this  precious  instinct  in  favour  of  goodness  was  cor 
rect,  or  how  far  Washington's  conduct  was  honour 
able  to  Religion  and  glorious  to  himself  and  country, 
bright  ages  to  come,  and  happy  millions  yet  unborn, 
will,  we  confidently  hope,  declare  to  the  most  distant 
posterity. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONTINUED. 
HIS  BENEVOLENCE. 

THIS  only  can  the  bliss  bestow 
Immortal  souls  should  prove  ; 
From  one  short  word  all  pleasures  flow, 
That  blessed  word  is — LOVE. 

IF  ever  man  rejoicrdin  the  divine  administration, 
and  cordially  endeavoured  to  imitate  it  by  doing 
good,  George  Washington  was  that  man.  Taught 
by  Religion  that  u  God  is  love"  he  wisely  concluded 
those  the  most  happy  who  love  the  most  ;  and, 
taught  by  experience  that  it  is  love  alone  that  gives 
a  participation  and  interest  in  others,  capacitating  us 
to  rejoice  with  those  who  rejoice,  and  to  weep  with 
those  who  weep, he  early  studied  that  BENEVOLENCE 
which  rendered  him  so  singularly  the  delight  of 
mankind. 


190          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

THE  marquis  De  Chastellux,  who  visited  him  in 
camp,  tells  us  that  "  he  was  astonished  and  delight* 
"  ed  to  see  the  great  American  living  among  his 
"  officers  and  men  as  a  father  among  his  children, 
"  who  at  once  revered  and  loved  him  with  a  filial 
"  tenderness.'* 

BRISSOT,  another  famous  French  traveller,  assures 
us,  that  "  throughout  the  continent  every  body 
"  spoke  of  Washington  as  of  a  father." 

THE  dearest  and  best  of  all  appellations,  "  The 

father  of  his  country?'  was  the  natural  fruit  of  that 

benevolence  which  he  so  carefully  cultivated  through 

life.     A  singular  instance  of  which  we  meet  with  in 

1754,  and  the  22d  year  of  his  age. 

HE  was  stationed  at  Alexandria  with  his  regiment, 
the  only  one  in  the  colony,  and  of  which  he  was  colo» 
nel.  There  happened  at  this  time  to  be  an  election 
in  Alexandria  for  members  of  assembly  :  and  the 
contest  ran  high  between  colonel  George  Fairfax, 
and  Mr.  Elzey.  Washington  was  the  warm  friend 
of  Fairfax  :  and  a  Mr.  Payne  headed  the  friends  of 
Elzey.  A  dispute  happening  to  take  place  in  the 
court-house  yard,  Washington,  a  thing  very  uncom 
mon  with  him,  became  warm ;  and,  which  was  still 
more  uncommon,  said  something  that  offended 
Payne  ;  whereupon  the  little  gentleman,  who,  though 
but  a  cub  in  size,  was  the  old  lion  in  heart,  raised  his 
sturdy  hickory,  and,  at  a  single  blow,  brought  our 
hero  to  the  ground.  Several  of  Washington's  offi 
cers  being  present,  whipped  out  their  cold  irons  in  an 
instant :  and  it  was  believed  that  there  would  have 
been  murder  off-hand.  To  make  bad  worse,  his 
regiment,  hearing  how  he  had  been  treated,  bolted 
out  from  their  barracks,  with  every  man  his  weapon 
in  his  hand,  threatening  dreadful  vengeance  on  those 
who  had  dared  to  knock  down  their  beloved  colonel. 
Happily  for  Mr.  Payne  and  his  party,  Washington 
recovered,  time  enough  to  go  out  and  meet  his  en 
raged  soldiers  :  and,  after  thanking  them  for  this  ex 
pression  of  their  love,  and  assuring  them  that  he 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  191 

was  not  hurt  in  the  least,  he  begged  them,  as  they 
loved  him  or  their  duty,  to  return  peaceably  to  their 
barracks.  As  for  himself,  he  went  to  his  room,  ge 
nerously  chastising  his  imprudence,  which  had  thus 
struck  up  a  spark  that  had  like  to  have  thrown  the 
whole  town  into  a  flame.  Finding  on  mature  reflec 
tion,  that  he  had  been  the  aggressor,  he  resolved  to 
make  Mr.  Payne  honourable  reparation,  by  asking 
his  pardon  on  the  morrow  !  No  sooner  had  he  made 
this  noble  resolution,  than,  recovering  that  delicious 
gaiety  which  accompanies  good  purposes  in  a  virtu 
ous  mind,  he  went  to  a  ball  that  night,  and  behaved 
as  pleasantly  as  though  nothing  had  happened  !  Glo 
rious  proof,  that  great  souls,  like  great  ships,  are  not 
affected  by  those  little  puffs  which  would  overset  fee 
ble  minds  with  passion,  or  sink  them  with  spleen ! 

THE  next  day  he  went  to  a  tavern,  and  wrote  a 
polite  note  to  Mr.  Payne,  whom  he  requested  to 
meet  him.  Mr.  Payne  took  it  for  a  challenge,  and 
repaired  to  the  tavern,  not  without  expecting  to  see 
a  pair  of  pistols  produced.  But  what  was  his  sur 
prise  on  entering  the  chamber,  to  see  a  decanter  of 
wine  and  glasses  on  the  table  !  Washington  arose, 
and  in  a  very  friendly  manner  met  him  ;  and  gave 
him  his  hand.  "  Mr.  Payne,"  said  he,  "  to  err  is 
*'  nature  :  to  rectify  error  is  glory.  I  find  I  was 
u  wrong  yesterday :  but  I  wish  to  be  right  to-day. 
"  You  have  had  some  satisfaction  :  and  if  you  think 
"  that  sufficient,  here's  my  hand ;  let  us  be  friends." 

ADMIRABLE  youth  !  Noble  speech  !  No  wonder, 
since  it  charms  us  so,  that  it  had  such  an  effect  on 
Mr.  Payne,  who  from  that  moment  became  the  most 
ardent  admirer  and  friend  of  Washington,  and  rea 
dy  at  any  time,  for  his  sake,  to  charge  up  to  a  batte 
ry  of  two  and  forty  pounders. 

WHAT  a  lesson  for  our  young  countrymen  !  Had 
Washington  been  one  of  the  race  of  little  men,  how 
sadly  different  would  have  been  his  conduct  on  this 
occasion  !  Instead  of  going  that  night  to  the  ball,  and 


192  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

acting  the  lively  agreeable  friend,  he  would,  like  an 
angry  viper  that  had  been  trod  on,  have  retired  to 
his  chamber.  There  he  would  have  found  no  such 
entertainment  as  Washington  had  at  this  ball  ;  no 
sprightly  music,  no  delicious  wines,  no  sweetly 
smiling  friends.  On  the  contrary,  all  the  tortures 
of  a  soul  broodifig  over  its  indignities,  until  reflec 
tion  had  whipped  it  up  into  pangs  of  rage  unutter 
able,  while  all  the  demons  of  hell,  with  blood-stained 
torches  pointing  at  his  bletding  honour,  cried  out 
u  revenge  !  revenge !  revenge  !"  There  in  his  cham 
ber,  he  would  have  passed  the  gloomy  night  prepa 
ring  his  pistols,  moulding  his  bullets,  or  with  furious 
looks  driving  them  through  the  body  of  his  enemy 
chalked  on  the  wall.  The  next  morning  would  have 
seen  him  on  the  field,  and  in  language  lately  heard 
in  this  state,  calling  out  to  his  hated  antagonist, 
Tou  have  injured  me,  sir,  beyond  reconciliation :  and 

by  rilkill  you  if  lean.      While  his  antagonist, 

in  a  style  equally  musical  and  Christian,  would  have 

rejoined,  Kill,  and  be /    Pop  go  the  pistols — 

down  tumbles  one  of  the  combatants  ;  while  the 
murderer,  with  knocking  knees  and  looks  of  Cain, 
flies  from  the  avenger  of  blood  !  The  murdered  man 
is  carried  to  his  house,  a  ghastly,  bloody  corpse. 
Merciful  God  !  what  a  scene  ensues  !  some  are  stu- 
pified  with  horror  !  others  sink  lifeless  to  the  floor  ! 
His  tender  sisters,  wild-shrieking  with  despair, 
throw  themselves  on  their  dead  brother  and  kiss  his 
ice-cold  lips  ;  while  his  aged  parents,  crushed  un 
der  unutterable  woe,  go  down  in  their  snowy  locks 
broken-hearted  to  the  grave. 

THUS  bloody  and  miserable  might  have  been  the 
end  of  Washington  or  of  Payne,  had  Washington 
been  one  of  those  poor  deluded  young  men,  who  are 
determined  to  be  $reat\  and  to  be  brought  forward  in 
newspapers,  in  spite  of  God  or  devil.  But  Washing 
ton  was  not  born  to  exemplify  those  horrid  tragedies, 
which  co-wards  create  in  society  by  pusillanimous ly 
giving  way  to  their  bad  passions.  No — he  was  born 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  193 

to  teach  his  countrymen  what  sweet  peace  and  har 
mony  might  for  ever  smile  in  the  habitations  of  men, 
if  all  had  but  the  courage,  like  himself,  to  obey  the 
sacred  voice  of  JUSTICE  and  HUMANITY.  By  firm 
ly  obeying  these,  he  preserved  his  hands  unstained 
by  the  blood  of  a  fellow  man ;  and  his  soul  unharrow- 
ed  by  the  cruel  tooth  of  never-dying  remorse.  By 
firmly  obeying  these,  he  preserved  a  life,  which, 
crowned  with  deeds  of  justice  and  benevolence,  has 
brought  more  glory  to  God,  more  good  to  man,  and 
more  honor  to  himself,  than  any  life  ever  spent  since 
the  race  of  man  began. 

SONS  of  Columbia]  would  you  know  what  is  true 
courage  ?  see  it  defined,  see  it  exemplified  in  this  act 
of  your  young  but  great  countryman.  Never  man 
possessed  a  more  undaunted  courage,  than  Wash 
ington.  But  in  him  this  noble  quality  was  the  life 
guard  of  his  reason,  not  the  assassin  ;  a  ready  ser 
vant  to  obey  her  commands,  not  a  bully  to  insult 
them  ;  a  champion  to  defend  his  neighbour's  rights, 
not  a  tyrant  to  invade  them.  Transported  by  sud 
den  passion,  to  which  all  are  liable,  he  offended 
Mr.  Payne,  who  resented  it  rather  too  roughly,  by 
knocking  him  down  on  the  spot.  Washington  had 
it  in  his  power  to  have  taken  ample  revenge :  and 
cowards,  who  have  no  command  over  their  passions , 
would  have  done  it.  But  duty  forbade  him  :  and 
he  had  the  courage  to  obey.  Reason  whispered  the 
folly  of  harbouring  black  passions  in  his  soul,  poison 
ing  his  peace.  He  instantly  banished  them  ;  and 
went  to  a  ball,  to  drink  sweet  streams  of  friendship 
from  the  eyes  of  happy  friends.  Again  reason 
whispered  him,  that  having  been  the  aggressor,  he 
ought  to  ask  Payne's  pardon,  and  compromise  the 
difference  with  him.  In  this  also  foe  had  the  courage 
to  obey  her  sacred  voice. 

IN  what  history,  ancient  or  modern,  sacred  or  pro 
fane,  can  you  find,  in  so  young  a  man,  only  twenty 
two,  such  an  instance  of  that  TRUE  HEROIC  VALOUR 
which  combats  malignant  passions — conquers  un- 


194          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

reasonable  self-  —  rejects  the  hell  of  hatred,  and  invites 
the-  heaven  ot  love  into  our  own  bosoms,  and  into 
those  of  our  brethren  with  whom  we  may  have 
quarrelled  ?  Joseph  forgiving  his  brethren  in  the 
land  of  Egypt  ;  David  sparing  that  inveterate  seeker 
ot  his  life,  Saul  ;  sir  Walter  Raleigh  pardoning  the 
young  man  who  spit  in  his  face  ;  afford,  it  is  true, 
charming  specimens  of  the  sublime  and  beautiful  in 
action  :  certainly,  such  men  are  .worthies  of  the 
world,  and  brightest  ornaments  of  human  nature. 
But  yet,  none  of  them  have  gone  beyond  Washing 
ton  in  the  affair  of  Payne. 

A  FEW  years  after  this,  Payne  had  a  cause  tri?  d  in 
Fairfax  court.  Washington  happened  on  that  day 
to  be  in  the  house.  The  lawyer  on  the  other  side, 
finding  he  was  going  fast  to  leeward,  thought  he 
would  luff  up  with  a  whole  broadside  at  Payne's 
character:  and,  after  raking  him  fore  and  aft  with 
abuse,  he  artfully  bore  away  under  the  lee  of  the 
jury's  prejudices,  which  he  endeavoured  to  inflame 
against  him.  44  Yes,  please  your  worships,"  con 
tinued  he,  "  as  a  proof  that  this  Payne  is  a  most 
44  turbulent  fellow,  and  capable  of  all  I  tell  you,  be 
44  pleased  to  remember,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  that 
u  this  is  the  very  man,  who  some  time  ago  treated 
**  our  beloved  colonel  Washington  so  barbarously. 
41  Yes,  this  is  the  wretch,  who  dared,  in  this  very 
44  court-house  yard,  to  lift  up  his  impious  hand  a- 
"  gainst  that  greatest  and  best  of  men,  and  knocked 
44  him  down  as  though  he  had  been  **  h^lock  of  the 


THIS,  roared  in  a  thundering  tftftts  ,and  wiiri  a  tre 
mendous  stamp  on  the  floor,  made  Payne  look  very 
dejected  ;  for  he  saw  the  countenance  of  the  court 
beginning  to  blacken  on  him.  But  Washington  rose 
immediately,  and  thus  addressed  the  bench  : 

44  As  to  Mr.  Payne's  character,  may  it  please  your 
44  worships,"  said  he,  "  we  all  have  the  satisfaction 
44  to  know  that  it  is  perfectly  unexceptionable  :  and 
44  with  respect  to  the  little  difference  which  former- 
44  ly  happened  between  that  gentleman  and  myself, 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  195 

"  it  was  instantly  made  up  :  and  we  have  lived  on 
"  the  best  terms  ever  since  :  moreover,  I  wish  all  my 
"  acquaintance  to  know,  that  I  entirely  acquit  Mr* 
"  Payne  of  blame  in  that  affair,  and  take  it  all  on 
u  myself  as  the  aggressor." 

PAYNE  used  often  to  relate  another  anecdote  of 
Washington,  which  reflects  equal  honour  on  the 
goodness  of  his  heart. 

"  IMMEDIATELY  after  the  war,"  said  he,  u  when 
"  the  conquering  hero  was  returning  in  peace  to  his 
"  home,  with  the  laurels  of  victory  green  and  flourish- 
**  ing  on  his  head,  I  felt  a  great  desire  to  see  him,  and 
*;  so  set  out  for  Mount  Vernon.  As  I  drew  near  the 
u  house,  I  began  to  experience  a  rising  fear,  lest  he 
u  should  call  to  mind  the  blow  I  had  given  him  in 
"  formerdays.  However,  animating  myself,  I  pushed 
"  on.  Washington  met  me  at  the  door  with  a  smiling 
u  welcome,  and  presently  led  me  into  an  adjoining 
"  room,  where  Mrs.  Washington  sat.  "  Here,  my 
"  dear,"  said  he,  presenting  me  to  his  lady,  u  here  is 
"  the  little  man  you  have  so  often  heard  me  talk  of ; 
"  and  who,  on  a  difference  between  us  one  day,  had 
"  the  resolution,  to  knock  me  down,  big  as  I  am.  I 
u  know  you  will  honour  him  as  he  deserves  ;  for  I 
'*  assure  you  he  has  the  heart  of  a  true  Virginian." 
"  He  said  this,''  continued  Mr.  Payne,  "  with  an  air 
"  which  convinced  me  that  his  long  familiarity  with 
"  war  had  not  robbed  him  of  a  single  spark  of  the 
"  goodness  and  nobleness  of  his  heart.  And  Mrs. 
u  Washington  looked  at  him,  I  thought,  with  a  some- 
"  thing  in  her  eyes,  which  showed  that  he  appeared 
u  to  her  greater  and  lovelier  than  ever." 

A  good  tree,  saith  the  divine  teacher,  brmgethforth 
good  fruit.  No  wonder  then  that  we  meet  with  so 
many  and  such  delicious  fruits  of  CHARITY  in  Wash 
ington,  whose  soul  was  so  rich  in  benevolence. 

IN  consequence  of  his  wealth  and  large  landed  pos 
sessions,  he  had  visits  innumerable  from  the  poor. 
Knowing  the  great  value  of  time  and  of  good  tempers 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

to  them,  he  could  not  bear  that  they  should  lose  ei 
ther,  by  long  waiting  and  shuffling,  and  blowing  their 
fingers  at  his  door.  He  had  a  room  set  apart  tor 
the  reception  of  such  poor  persons  as  had  business 
with  him  :  and  the  porter  had  orders  to  conduct 
them  into  it,  and  to  inform  him  immediately.  And 
so  affectionately  attentive  was  he  to  them,  that  if  he 
was  in  company  with  the  greatest  characters  on  the 
continent,  when  his  servant  informed  him  that  a  poor 
man  wished  to  speak  to  him,  he  would  instantly  beg 
them  to  excuse  him  for  a  moment,  and  go  and  wait 
on  him. 

WASHINGTON'S  conduct  showed  that  he  disliked 
another  practice,  too  common  among  some  great 
men,  who,  not  having  the  power  to  say,  yes,  nor  the 
heart  to  say,  no,  to  a  poor  man,  are  fain  to  put  him 
off  with  a  "  come  again  ;  come  again  ;"  and  thus  trot 
him  backwards  and  forwards,  wasting  his  time, 
wearing  out  his  patience  and  shoes,  and  after  all  give 
him  the  mortification  of  a  disappointment. 

WASHINGTON  could  not  be  guilty  of  such  cruel 
kindness.  If  he  could  not  oblige  a  poor  applicant, 
he  would  candidly  tell  him  so  at  once  :  but  then  the 
goodness  of  his  heart  painted  his  regret  so  sensibly 
on  his  countenance,  that  even  his  refusals  made  him 
friends. 

A  POOR  Irishman,  wanting  a  small  farm,  and  hear 
ing  that  Washington  had  one  to  rent,  waited  on 
him.  Washington  told  him  that  he  was  sincerely 
sorry  that  he  could  not  assist  him  ;  for  he  had  just 
disposed  of  it.  The  poor  man  took  his  leave,  but 
not  without  returning  him  a  thousand  thanks  !  Ah, 
do  you  thank  me  so  hearti  it  for  a  refusal  f  u  Yes, 
*4  upon  my  shoul,  now  please  your  excellency's  hon- 
"  our,  and  I  do  thank  you  a  thousand  times.  For 
*'  many  a  great  man  would  have  kept  me  waiting 
"  like  a  black  negro.  But  your  excellency's  hon- 
*'  our  has  told  me  strait  off  hand  that  you  are  sorry 
"  and  God  bless  you  lorit,  that  you  can't  help  nru»— — 
u  and  so  your  honour  has  done  my  business  forme* 
"  in  no  time,  and  less." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  197 

The  Potomac  abounds  with  the  finest  herrings  ki 
the  world,  which,  when  salted,  furnish  not  only  to 
the  wealthy  a  charming  relish  for  their  tea  and  cof 
fee,  but  also  to  the  poor  a  delicious  substitute  for  ba 
con.  But,  fond  as  they  are  of  this  small  ironed  bacon, 
as  they  call  it,  many  of  them  have  not  the  means  to 
procure  it.  Washington's  heart  felt  for  these  poor 
people  ;  and  provided  a  remedy.  He  ordered  a  seine 
and  a  batteau  to  be  kept  on  one  of  his  best  fishing 
shores,  on  purpose  for  the  poor.  If  the  batteau  were 
lost,  or  the  seine  spoilt,  which  was  often  the  case,  he 
had  them  replaced  with  new  ones  immediately.  And 
if  the  poor  who  came  for  fish  were  too  weak  handed 
to  haul  the  seine  themselves,  they  needed  but  to  ap 
ply  to  the  overseer,  who  had  orders  from  Washing 
ton  to  send  hands  tp  help  them.  Thus  all  the  poor 
had  it  in  their  power  to  come  down  in  the  season, 
and  catch  the  finest  fish  for  themselves  and  their 
families.  In  what  silver  floods  were  ever  yet 
caught  the  herrings,  which  could  have  given  to  Wash 
ington  what  he  tasted,  on  seeing  the  poor  driving 
away  from  his  shores,  with  carts  laden  with  delicious 
fish,  and  carrying  home,  whooping  and  singing  to 
their  smiling  wives  and  children,  the  rich  prize,  a 
whole  year's  plenty. 

IN  all  his  chanties,  he  discovered  great  judgment 
and  care  in  selecting  proper  objects.  Character  was 
the  main  chance.  Mount  Vernon  had  no  charms 
for  lazy,  drunken,  worthless  beggars.  Persons  of 
that  description  knew  very  well  that  they  must  make 
their  application  elsewhere.  He  never  failed  to  re 
mind  them  of  the  great  crime  of  robbing  the  public 
of  their  services,  and  also  the  exceeding  cruelty  and 
injustice  of  snapping  up  from  the  really  indigent 
what  little  charity  bread  was  stirring.  But  if  the 
character  were  good — if  the  poor  petitioner  were  a 
sober,  honest,  and  industrious  person,  whom  Pro 
vidence  had  by  sickness  or  losses  reduced  to  want 
—he  found  a  brother  in  Washington.  It  is  incre 
dible  what  quantities  of  wool,  corn, -bacon,  flour 
2  S 


198  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

clothes,  &c.  were  annually  distributed  to  the  poor, 
from  the  almost  exhaustless  heap,  which  the  bles- 
sinus  of  Heaven  bestowed  on  this,  its  industrious 
and  faithful  steward. 

"  I  HAP  orders,"  said  Mr.  Peake,  a  sensible, 
honest  n.anager  of  one  of  Washington's  plantations, 
"  to  fill  a  corn-house  every  year,  for  the  sole  use  of 
"  the  poor  in  my  neighbourhood!  to  whom  it  was 
"  a  most  seasonable  and  precious  relief ;  saving  num- 
*'  bers  of  poor  women  and  children  from  miserable 
*'  famine,  and  blessing  them  with  a  cheerful  plen- 
"  teousness  of  bread." 

MR.  LUND  WASHINGTON,  long  a  manager  of  his 
Mount  Vernon  estate, had  similar  orders.  One  year 
when  corn  was  so  dear  (a  dollar  per  bushel)  that 
numbers  of  the  poor  were  on  the  point  of  starving, 
Mr.  L.  Washington,  by  order  of  the  general,  not 
only  gave  away  all  that  could  be  spared  from  the 
granaries,  but  bought  at  that  dear  rate,  several  hun 
dred  bushels  for  them  ! 

Anecdote  of  Washington. — The  town  of  Alexan 
dria,  which  now  flourishes  like  a  green  bay  tree,  on 
the  waters  of  the  Potomac,  was,  50  years  ago,  but  a 
small  village.  But  though  small,  it  was  lovely.  Sit 
uated  on  the  fine  plain  which  banks  the  western  mar 
gin  of  the  river,  and  with  snow  white  domes  glisten 
ing  through  the  trees  that  shook  their  green  heads 
over  the  silver  flood,  it  formed  a  view  highly  ro 
mantic  and  beautiful.  Hence  the  name  of  the  place 
at  first  was  Bellhaven.  But,  with  all  the  beauties  to 
the  eye,  Bellhaven  had  no  charms  for  the  palate. 
Not  that  the  neighbourhood  of  Bellhaven  was  a  de 
sert ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was,  in  many  places,  a 
garden  spot,  abounding  with  luxuries.  But  its  in 
habitants,  though  wealthy,  were  not  wise.  By  the 
successful  culture  of  tobacco  they  had  m^de  money. 
And  having  filled  their  coach-houses  with  gilt  car 
riages,  and  their  dining  rooms  with  gilt  glasses,  they 
be^an  to  look  down  on  the  poorer  sort,  and  to  talk 
about  families.  Oi  course  it  would  never  do  for 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  1 99 

such  great  people  to  run  market  carts  !  !  Hence  the 
poor  Bcllhavenites,  though  embosomed  in  plenty 
were  often  in  danger  of  gnawing  their  nails  ;  and, 
unless  they  could  cater  a  lamb  from  some  goodna- 
tured  peasant,  or  a  leash  of  chickens  from  the  Sun 
day  negroes,  were  obliged  to  sit  down  with  long  fa 
ces  to  a  halj-graced  dinner  of  salt  meat  and  johnny 
cake.  This  was  the  order  of  the  day,  A.  I).  '59, 
when  Washington, just  married  to  the  wealthy  young 
Mrs.  Custis,  had  settled  at  Mount  Vernon,  nine 
miles  below  Bellhaven.  The  unpleasant  situation  of 
the  families  at  that  place  soon  reached  his  ear.  To 
a  man  of  his  character,  with  too  much  spirit  to  fol 
low  a  bad  example,  when  he  had  the  power  to  seta 
good  one,  and  too  much  wit  to  look  for  happiness 
any  where  but  in  his  own  bosom,  it  could  not  long 
be  questionable  what  part  he  had  to  act.  A  market 
cart  was  instantly  constructed  ;  and  regularly,  three 
times  a  week,  sent  off  to  Bellhaven,  filled  with  nice 
roasters,  kidney  covered  lamb  and  veal,  green  geese, 
fat  ducks,  chickens  by  the  basket,  fresh  butter,  new 
laid  eggs,  vegetables,  and  fruit  of  all  sorts.  Country 
gentlemen,  dining  with  their  friends  in  town,  very 
soon  marked  the  welcome  change  of  diet.  *'  Bless 
us  all  I"  exclaimed  they,  "  what's  the  meaning  of 
this  ?  you  invited  us  to  family  jar e,  and  here  you've 
given  us  a  lord  mayor's  feast"  "  Tes"  replied  the 
others,  "  thank  God  for  sending  colonel  Washington 
into  our  neighbourhood"  Thus,  it  was  discovered, 
to  the  extreme  mortification  of  some  of  the  little 
great  ones,  that  colonel  Washington  shouldever  have 
run  a  market  cart !  !  But  the  better  sort,  who  gener 
ally,  thank  God,  have  sense  enough  to  be  led  right, 
provided  they  can  get  a  leader,  soon  fell  into  the 
track  :  and  market  carts  were  soon  seen  travelling 
in  abundance  to  town  with  every  delicacy  of  the 
animal  and  vegetable  republics. 

THUS  the  hungry  wall  which  pride  had  raised 
against  Bellhaven  was  happily  demolished.  A  flood- 
tide  of  blessings  rolk-d  in  from  the  neighbouring 
country.  The  hearts  of  the  merchants  felt  a  fresh 


200  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

pulse  of  love  for  their  brothers,  the  farmers  :  and 
even  the  lictle  children,  with  cheeks  red  as  the  ap 
ples  they  seized,  were  taught  to  lisp  the  praises  of 
Go.1.  And  all  this,  reader,  through  the  active  be- 
nevot  *nce  of  one  man. 

THE  following  anecdote  was  related  to  me  by  his 
excellent v  governor  Johnson  (Maryland,)  one  of 
the  few  su  'viving  heroes  of  '76. 

"  You  set  m,  sir,"  said  he  addressing  himself  to 
me,  u  very  und  of  collecting  anecdotes  of  Gen. 
Washington.  Well,  I'll  tell  you  one,  to  which  you 
may  attach  the  uiost  entire  faith  ;  for  I  have  heard 
it  a  dozen  times  a  \d  oftener,  from  the  lips  of  a  very 
valuable  man  and  a  magistrate,  in  Conostoga,  a 
Mr.  Conrad  Hogni)  -r."  "  Just  before  the  revolu 
tionary  war,"  said  Mr.  Hogmyer,  "  I  took  a  trip  for 
my  health's  sake  to  the  Sweet  Springs  of  Virginia, 
where  I  found  a  world  v  f  people  collected  ;  some, 
like  me,  looking  for  heaHh,  others  for  pleasure.  In 
consequence  of  the  crowd,  I  was  at  first  rather  hard 
run  for  lodgings  /  but  at  L  ngth  was  lucky  enough 
to  get  a  mattrass  in  the  hut  of  a  very  honest  baker 
of  my  acquaintance,  who  oflv>n  visited  the  springs 
for  the  benefit  of  his  oven.  l*eing  the  only  man  of 
the  trade  on  the  turf,  and  well  skilled  in  the  science 
of  dough,  he  met  with  no  small  t-ncoaragement :  and 
it  was  really  a  subject  of  surprize  to  see  the  heaps  of 
English  loaves,  Indian  pones,  Frt  nch  bricks,  cakes, 
and  crackers,  which  lay  piled  on  Sis  counter  every 
morning.  I  often  amused  myself  in  marking  the 
various  airs  and  manners  of  the  different  waiters, 
who,  in  gay  liveries  and  shining  faces,  came  every 
morning,  rattling  down  their  silver,  and  tripping 
away  with  their  bread  by  the  basket.— -Among  those 
gay  looking  sons  and  daughters  of  Africa,  I  saw 
every  now  and  then,  a  poor  Lazarite,  with  sallow 
cheek  and  hollow  eye,  slowly  creeping  to  the  door, 
and  at  a  nod  from  the  baker,  eagerly  seize  a  fine  loaf, 
and  bear  it  off  without  depositing  a  cent.  Surely, 
thought  I  to  myself,  this  baker  must  be  the  best  man, 
tor  he  greatest  fool  iii  the  world.  put  fearing  that 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  201 

this  latter  cop  best  fitted  his  pericranium,  I  one 
morning  con  d  not  help  breaking  my  mind  to  him, 
for  crediting  his  bread  to  such  very  unpromising 
dealers.  u  Stophel,"  for  that  was  his  name,  "  you 
seem,"  said  I,  u  to  sell  a  world  of  bread  here  every 
"  dny  ;  but,  notwithstanding  that,  I  fear  you  don't 
u  gain  much  by  it." 

*'  No  !  'squire  ?   What  makes  you  think  so  ?" 

4<  You  credit  too  much,  Stophel." 

"  NOT  I  indeed, strict  I.  I  don't  credit  a  penny." 

u  AY  !  how  do  you  make  that  out,  Stophel,  don't  I 
see  the  poor  people  every  day  carrying  away  your 
bread,  and  yet  paying  you  nothing  ?" 

"  PSHAW,  no  matter  for  that,  'squire.  They'll 
pay  me  all  in  a  lump  at  last." 

AT  last!  At  last!  Oh  ho,  at  the  last  day,  I 
suppose  you  mean,  Stophel ;  when  you  have  the  con 
science  to  expect  that  God  Almighty  will  stand  pay 
master,  and  wipe  off  all  your  old  scores  for  you,  at 
a  dash." 

"  Oh  no  !  'squire,  we  poor  bakers  can't  give  such 
long  credit!  but  I'll  tell  you  how  we  work  the  matter. 
The  good  man  cornel  George  Washington  is  here. 
Every  season  as  soon  as  he  comes,  he  calls  and  says 
to  me,  u  S*ophel,  you  seem  to  havr  a  great  deal  of 
company  ;  and  some,  I  fear,  who  don't  come  here 
for  pleasure,  and  yet,  you  know,  they  can't  do  with 
out  eating.  Though  pale  and  sickly,  they  must 
have  bread.  But  it  will  never  do  to  make  them  pay 
for  it.  Poor  creatures  !  they  seem  already  low  spirited 
enough  through  sickness  and  poverty.  Their  spirits 
must  not  be  sunk  lower  by  taking  from  them  every 
day  what  little  money  they  have  pinched  from  their 
poor  fan  iiies  at  home.  I'll  tell  you  what's  to  be  done, 
Stophe'.  You  must  give  each  of  them  a  good  hot  loaf 
every  morning,  and  charge  it  to  me.  When  I  am  go 
ing  away,  I'll  pay  you  all.  And  believe  me,  'squire, 
he  h.-s  oit«.jn,  at  the  end  of  the  season,  paid  me  as 
much  as  80  dollars,  and  that  too  for  poor  creatures 
who  did  not  know  the  hand  that  fed  them  ;  for  I  had 


202          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

strict  orders  from  him  not  to  mention  a  syllable  of  it 
to  any  body." 

BUT  though  so  kind  to  the  bodies,  Washington  was 
still  more  kind  and  costly  in  his  charities  to  the  minds 
of  the  poor.  Sensible  that  a  republican  government, 
that  is,  a  government  of  the  people,  can  never  long 
subsist  where  the  minds  of  the  people  are  not  enlight 
ened,  he  earnestly  recommended  it  to  the  citizens  of 
the  United  States,  to  promote,  as  an  object  of  primary 
importance,  institutions  for  the  general  diffusion  of 
knowledge.  In  this,  as  indeed  in  all  other  cases 
where  any  thing  great  or  good  was  to  be  done,  Wash 
ington  led  the  way. 

HE  established  a  chanty  school  in  Alexandria,  and 
endowed  it  wiih  a  donation  of  four  thousand  dollars  / 
The  interest  was  regularly  paid  and  expended  on  the 
education  of  fifteen  boys.  My  young  friend,  the 
reverend  Mr.  Wiley,  who,  for  talents,  taste,  and 
classical  erudition,  has  few  superiors  in  America, 
was  educated  by  Washington. 

IN  1785,  the  assembly  of  his  native  state,  Virginia, 
<c  desirous  to  embrace,"  as  they  said,  "  every  suit- 
*'  able  occasion  of  testifying  their  sense  of  the  unex- 
"  ampled  merits  of  George  Washington,  esq."  pre 
sented  him  whh  fifty  shares  in  the  Potomac,  and  one 
hundred  shares  in  the  James  River  Navigation  Com 
pany  ;  making,  in  the  whole,  the  important  sum  of 
ten  thousand  pounds  sterling  ! 

OF  this  public  act,  they  requested  the  governor  to 
transmit  Washington  a  copy.  In  answer  he  ad 
dressed  a  letter  to  the  governor,  in  which,  u  I  take 
<l  the  liberty  (says  he)  of  returning  to  the  general 
44  assembly,  through  your  hands,  the  profound  and 
44  grateful  acknowledgments  inspired  by  so  signal  a 
44  mark  of  their  beneficent  intentions  towards  me." 

HE  goes  on  to  beg  that  they  would  excuse  his  de 
termined  resolution  not  to  accept  a  farthing  of  it  for 
his  own  use — 4*  But"  continued  he,  4t  if  it  should 
44  please  the  general  assembly  to  permit  me  to  turn 
44  the  destination  of  the  fund  vested  in  me,  from  my 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  203 

u  private  emolument,  to  objects  of  a  public  nature, 
4<  it  shall  be  my  study,  in  selecting,  to  prove  thesin- 
"  cerity  of  my  gratitude  for  the  honour  conferred  on 
u  me,  by  preferring  such  as  may  appear  most  subser- 
*'  vient  to  the  enlightened  and  patriotic  views  of  the 
u  legislature." 

THEY  were  cheerfully  submitted  to  his  disposal : 
and,  according  to  promise,  he  appropriated  them  to 
works  of  the  greatest  utility  :  viz.  his  shares  in  James 
River  canal,  to  a  college  in  Rockbridge  county,  near 
the  waters  of  James  River  ;  and  his  Potomac  shares 
to  a  national  university,  to  be  erected  in  the  federal 
district,  on  the  great  Potomac. 

How  noble  and  disinterested  were  his  wishes  for 
the  good  of  his  country  !  As  if  incapable  of  being  sa 
tisfied  with  all  that  he  had  done  for  her  while  living, 
he  endeavoured,  by  founding  those  noble  institutions 
for  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  virtue,  to  make 
himself  her  benefactor  when  he  should  cease  to  live  in 
this  sublunary  world. 

SINCE  the  idea  is  perfectly  correct,  that  the  great 
Governor  of  the  world  must  look  with  peculiar  benig 
nity  on  those  of  his  children  who  most  nearly  resem 
ble  him  in  benevolence,  may  we  not  indulge  the 
pleasing  hope,  that  these  colleges,  founded  by  such 
a  hand,  shall  prove  the  nurseries  of  the  brightest  gen 
ius  and  virtue  ;  and  that  from  their  sacred  halls  will 
proceed  in  endless  succession,  the  mighty  Washing- 
tons,  and  Jejfersons,  the  Franklins  and  Madisons  of 
future  times  !  O  that  Columbia  may  live  before  God  ! 
and  that  the  bright  days  of  ner  prosperity  may  never 
have  an  end ! 

WASHINGTON'S  behaviour  to  the  generous  Fayette 
ought  never  to  be  forgotten. 

WHEN  that  glorious  young  nobleman  heard  that 
lord  North  had  passed  against  America  the  decree  of 
slavery  ;  and  that  the  American  farmers,  with  their 
rusty  firelocks  and  pitchforks,  in  front  of  their  shriek 
ing  wives  and  children,  were  inch  by  inch  disputing 
the  soil  against  a  hireling  soldiery,  he  tears  gushed 
from  his  eyes.  He  tore  himself  from  the  arms  of  the 


204          LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

loveliest,  fondest  of  wives  ;  flew  to  his  sovereign  for 
permission  to  fight ;  turned  into  powder  and  arms 
every  livre  that  he  could  raise  ,  and,  in  a  swift  sail 
ing  frigate  rushing  through  the  waves  to  America, 
presented  himself  before  Washington.  Washington 
received  him  as  his  son,  and  gave  him  command. 
Under  the  eye  of  that  hero  he  fought  and  conquered. 
Having  aided  to  fix  the  independence  of  strangers, 
he  hastened  back  to  France,  to  liberate  his  own 
countrymen  from  the  curses  of  monarchy  ;  and  to 
give  them,  like  America,  the  blessings  of  a  republic. 
A  pupil  of  the  temperate  and  virtuous  Washington, 
he  soon  offended  the  hot  headed  demagogues  of 
France.  Banished  from  his  native  country,  he  was 
presently  thrown,  by  royal  jealousy,  into  a  foreign 
prison.  Most  of  us  here  ie  America,  on  hearing  of 
his  misfortunes,  felt  the  kindly  touch  of  sympathy. 
But  alas  !  like  those  good  people  in  the  parable,  we 
were  so  taken  up  with  u  buying  land,  trying  oxen, 
or  marrying  wives,"  that  we  forgot  our  noble  friend. 
But  Washington  did  not  forget  him.  His  thoughts 
were  often  with  him  in  his  gloomy  cell,  Pie  sent 
him  a  present  of  a  thousand  guineas — and  in  a  letter 
to  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  with  equal  delicacy  and 
feeling,  solicited  his  discharge,  and  permission  to 
come  to  America.  The  letter  concluded  with  these 
remarkable  words  : — "  As  it  is  a  maxim  with  me 
"  never  to  ask  what,  under  similar  circumstances,  I 
"  would  not  grant,  your  majesty  will  do  me  the  justice 
u  to  believe,  that  this  request  appears  to  me  to  cor- 
"  respond  with  those  great  principles  of  magnanimi- 
a  ty  and  wisdom  which  form  the  basis  of  sound  poli- 
4*  cy  and  durable  glory." 

THIS  letter  produced,  in  part,  the  desired  effect. 
For  immediately  after  the  receipt  of  it,  the  marquis 
experienced  a  great  increase  of  attention :  and  in  a 
short  time  he  was  liberated.  Such  was  the  respect 
paid  to  our  American  farmer,  bv  one  of  the  greatest 
monarchs  in  Europe. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  205 

IN  1795,  the  marquis's  son  made  his  escape  from 
France,  and  arrived  at  Boston.  Soon  as  Washington 
heard  of  it,  he  sent  his  parental  respects  to  the  youth, 
and  informed  him,  that,  though,  from  motives  of 
tenderness  to  his  mother,  who  was  in  the  power  of 
the  directory,  he  could  not  be  seen  publicly  to  notice 
him,  yet  he  begged  to  be  considered  by  him  as  his 
father  and  protector — advised  him  to  enter  as  a  stu 
dent  in  the  university  near  Boston,  and  to  draw  on 
him  for  whatever  monies  he  should  want. 

CONGRESS,  on  hearing  that  a,  son  of  the  noble  mar 
quis  was  in  America,  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  youth, 
and  ordered  an  immediate  enquiry  into  his  situation, 
intending  generous  things  for  him  out  of  the  national 
treasury.  But  finding  that  on  this,  as  on  all  other 
occasions,  Washington  had  done  honour  to  the  Ame 
rican  name,  they  rejoiced  exceedingly,  and  let  the 
matter  drop. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONTINUED. 
HIS  INDUSTRY. 

AWAKE,  my  boy  !  and  let  the  rising  sun 
Blush  to  see  his  vigilance  outdone ; 
In  cheerful  works  consume  the  fleeting  day, 
Toil  thy  pleasure,  and  business  all  thy  play. 

BUT  of  all  the  virtues  that  adorned  the  life  of  this 
great  man,  there  is  none  more  worthy  of  our  imita 
tion  than  his  admirable  INDUSTRY.  It  is  to  this  vir 
tue  in  her  Washington,  that  America  stands  indebt 
ed  for  services  past  calculation :  and  it  is  from  this 
virtue,  that  Washington  himself  snatched  a  wreath 
of  glory  that  will  never  fade  away.  O  that  the  good 
T 


206  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

genius  of  America  may  prevail !  that  the  example  of 
this,  her  favourite  son,  may  be  but  universally  adopt 
ed  !  Soon  shall  our  land  be  free  from  all  those  sloth- 
begotten  demons  which  now  haunt  and  torment  us. 
For  whence  do  all  our  miseries  proceed,  but  from 
lack  of  industry  !  In  a  land  like  this,  which  heaven 
has  blessed  above  all  lands — a  land  abounding  with 
\\\ejish  and^fosA  pots  of  Egypt,  and  flowing  with  the 
choicest  milk  and  honey  of  Canaan — a  land  where  the 
poorest  Lazarus  may  get  \\\s  fifty  cents  a  day  for  the 
commonest  labour — and  buy  the  daintiest  bread  of 
corn  flour  for  a  cent  a  pound!  why  is  any  man  hun 
gry,  or  thirsty,  or  naked,  or  in  prison  ?  why  but 
through  his  own  unpardonable  sloth  ? 

BUT  alas  !  what  would  it  avail,  though  the  blest 
shade  of  Washington  were  to  descend  from  his  na 
tive  skies,  and,  with  an  angel's  voice,  recommend 
industry  as  the  handmaid  of  health,  wealth, innocence, 
and  happiness  to  man.  A  notion,  from  the  land  of  lies, 
has  taken  too  deep  root  among  some,  that  "  labour  is 
a  low-lived  thing,  Jit  for  none  but  poor  people  and 
slaves  !  and  that  dress  and  pleasure  are  the  only  ac 
complishments  for  a  gentleman  !  But  does  it  become 
a  gentleman  to  saunter  about,  living  on  the  charity  of 
his  relations — to  suffer  himself  to  be  dunned  by  cre 
ditors,  and,  like  a  hunted  wolf,  to  fly  from  the  face  of 
sheriffs  and  constables  ?  Is  it  like  a  gentleman  to  take 
a  generous  woman  from  her  parents,  and  reduce  her 
to  beggary — to  see  even  her  bed  sold  from  under  her, 
and  herself  and  weeping  infants  turneaoutof  doors  ? 
Is  it  like  a  gentleman  to  reduce  one's  children  to 
rags,  and  to  drive  them  like  birds  of  heaven,  to 
hedges  and  highways,  to  pick  berries,  filling  their 
pale  bloated  bodies  with  disease  ?  Or  is  it  like  a. gen 
tleman  to  bring  up  one's  sons  in  sloth,  pleasure,  and 
drt  ss,  as  young  noblemen,  and  then  leave  them  with 
out  estates,  profession,  or  trades,  to  turn  gamblers, 
sbaipers,  or  horse  thieves  ?  "  From  such  gentlemen, 
oh  nave  my  country,  Heaven  /"  was  Washington's  per 
petual  prayer,  the  emphatical  prayer  of  his  life  and 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  207 

great  example  !  In  his  ear,  Wisdom  was  heard  inces 
santly  calling  aloud,  "  He  is  the  real  gentleman,  who 
cheerfully  contributes  his  every  exertion  to  accom 
plish  heaven's  favourite  designs,  the  beauty,  order  and 
happiness  of  human  life;  whose  industry  appears  in  a 
plentiful  house  and  smiling  wife  ;  in  the  decent  ap 
parel  of  his  children,  and  in  their  good  education  and 
virtuous  manners ;  who  is  not  afraid  to  see  any  man 
on  earth ;  but  meets  his  creditors  with  a  smiling  coun 
tenance,  and  with  the  welcome  music  of  gold  and 
silver  in  his  hand ;  who  exerts  an  honest  industry 
for  wealth,  that  he  may  become  as  a  water-course  in 
a  thirsty  land,  a  source  of  refreshment  to  a  thousand 
poor."  ' 

THIS  was  the  life,  this  the  example  set  by  Wash 
ington.  His  whole  inheritance  was  but  a  small  tract 
of  poor  land  in  Stafford  county,  and  a  few  negroes. 
This  appearing  utterly  insufficient  for  those  purposes 
of  usefulness,  with  the  charms  of  which  his  mind 
seems  to  have  been  early  smitten,  he  resolved  to  make 
up  the  deficiency  by  dint  of  industry  and  economy. — 
For  these  virtues,  how  excellent !  how  rare  in  youth! 
Washington  was  admirably  distinguished  when  but 
a  boy.  At  a  time  when  many  young  men  have  no 
higher  ambition  than  a  fine  coat  and  a  frolic,  "  often 
have  I  seen  him  (says  the  reverend  Mr.  Lee  Massey) 
riding'  about  the  country  with  his  surveying1  instru 
ments  at  his  saddle"  enjoying  the  double  satisfaction 
of  obliging  his  fellowcitizens  by  surveying  their  lands, 
and  of  making  money,  not  meanly  to  hoard,  but  gene 
rously  to  lend  to  any  -worthy  object  that  asked  it.  This 
early  industry  was  one  of  the  first  steps  to  Washing 
ton's  preferment.  It  attracted  on  him  the  notice 
and  admiration  of  his  numerous  acquaintance,  and, 
which  was  still  more  in  his  favour,  it  gave  such  un 
common  strength  to  his  constitution,  such  vigour  to 
his  mind,  such  a  spirit  for  adventure,  that  he  was 
ready  for  any  glorious  enterprize,  no  matter  how  dif 
ficult  or  dangerous.  Witness  the  expedition  from 
Williamsburg  through  the  Indian  country  to  the  Ohio, 


208  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

which  at  the  green  age  of  twenty-one,  he  undertook  for 
governor  Dinwiddie.  Indeed  this  uncommon  attach 
ment  to  industry  and  useful  life,  made  such  an  im 
pression  on  the  public  mind  in  his  favour,  that  by  the 
time  he  was  one  and  twenty  he  was  appointed  major 
and  adjutant-general  of  the  Virginia  rorces  in  the 
Northern  Neck ! 

THERE  was  at  this  time  a  young  fellow  in  Wil- 
liamsburg  by  the  name  of  Jack  B ,  who  pos 
sessed  considerable  vivacity,  great  good-nature,  and 
several  accomplishments  of  the  bon  companion  sort. 
He  could  tell  a  good  story,  sing  agreeably,  scrape  a 
little  on  the  fiddle,  and  cut  as  many  capers  to  the  tune 
of  old  Roger,  as  any  buck  a  going  ;  and  being,  besides, 
a  young  fellow  of  fortune,  and  son  of  an  intimate  ac 
quaintance,  Jack  was  a  great  favourite  of  the  gover 
nor,  and  much  at  his  house.  But  all  this  could  not  save 
poor  Jack  from  the  twinges  of  envy.  For,  on  hearing 
every  body  talk  in  praise  of  Major  Washington,  he 
could  not  help  saying  one  day  at  the  governor's  table, 
"  /  wonder  what  makes  the  people  so  wrapped  up  in 
•major  Washington :  I  think,  begging  your  excellency's 
pardon,  I  had  as  good  a  right  to  a  major's  commis 
sion"  "  Ah,  Jack,"  replied  the  governor,  "  when  we 
•want  diversion,  -we  send  for  you.  But  when  we  want 
a  man  of  business,  we  send  for  Major  Washington" 

NEVER  was  the  great  Alfred  more  anxious  to  im 
prove  his  time  than  our  Washington  :  and  it  appears 
that,  like  Alfred,  he  divided  his  time  into  four  grand 
departments,  sleep,  devotion,  recreation,  and  busi 
ness.  On  the  hours  of  business,  whether  in  his  own 
or  his  country's  service,  he  would  allow  nothing  to 
infringe.  While  in  camp,  no  company,  however  il 
lustrious — no  pleasures,  however  elegant — no  conver 
sation,  however  agreeable — could  prevail  on  him  to 
neglect  his  business.  The  moment  that  his  hour  of 
duty  was  come,  he  would  fill  his  glass,  and  with  a 
smile,  call  out  his  friends  around  the  social  board, 
"  well,  gentlemen,  here  is  bon  repos"  and  immediately 
withdraw  to  business.  Bon  repos  is  a  French  cant 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  209 

for  good  night.  Washington  drank  it  as  a  signal  to 
break  up  ;  for  the  moment  the  company  had  swal 
lowed  the  general's  bon  repos,  it  was  hats  and  of. 
General  Wayne,  who,  happily  for  America,  under 
stood  fighting  better  than  French,  had  some  how  or 
other  taken  up  a  notion,  that  this  same  bon  repos,  to 
whom  Washington  made  such  conscience  of  giving 
his  last  bumper,  must  have  been  some  great  warrior 
of  the  times  of  old.  Having,  by  some  extraordinary 
luck,  gotten  hold  of  two  or  three  dozen  of  good  old 
wine,  he  invited  a  parcel  of  hearty  fellow-officers  to 
dine  with  him,  and  help  him  to  break  them  to  the 
health  of  America.  Soon  as  the  cloth  was  removed, 
and  the  bottles  on  the  table,  the  hero  of  Stony  Point 
cried  out,  "  come  my  brave  fellows,  fill  your  glasss  ; 
herJs  old  bon  r  epos  for  ever"t  The  officers  were  thun 
derstruck  :  but  having  turned  off  their  wine,  rose  up, 
one  and  all  to  go.  "  Hey  day  !  what's  all  this,  gentle- 
"  men  ?  what's  all  this  ?"  ' "  Why,"  replied  they, 
"  did  not  you  drink  bon  repos,  or  good  night  ?" 

"  WHAT  !  is  that  the  meaning  of  it  ?"  "  Yes," 
u  Oh  !  then  damn  old  bon  repos,  and  take  your  seats 
"  again :  for,  by  the  life  of  Washington,  you  shan't 
"  stir  a  peg  till  we  have  started  every  drop  of  our 
"  wine." 

WHILE  he  was  employed  in  choosing  a  place  on 
the  Potomac,  for  the  federal  city,  his  industry  was  no 
less  remarkable.  Knowing  how  little  is  generally 
done  before  breakfast,  he  made  it  a  rule  to  rise  so 
early  as  to  have  breakfast  over,  and  be  on  horseback 
by  the  time  the  sun  was  up.  Let  the  rising  genera 
tion  remember  that  he  was  then  sixty  years  of  age  ! 

ON  his  farm,  his  husbandry  of  time  was  equally 
exemplary.  He  contemplated  a  great  object :  an 
object  worthy  of  Washington.  He  aimed  at  teaching 
his  countrymen  the  art  of  enriching  their  lands,  and 
consequently,  of  rendering  the  condition  of  man,  and 
beast  more  plentiful  and  happy.  He  had  seen  thou 
sands  of  acres,  which,  by  constant  cultivation,  had 
lost  the  Dower  of  covering  their  nakedness  even  with 
T2 


210  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

a  suit  of  humble  sedge.  He  had  seen  thousands  of 
wretched  cattle,  which,  driven  out  houseless  and  hay- 
less  into  the  cold  wintry  rains,  presented  such  trem 
bling  spectacles  of  starvation  and  misery,  as  were 
enough  to  start  the  tear  into  Pity's  eye.  To  remedy 
these  cruel  evils  (which  certainly  they  are,  for  He 
who  lent  us  these  animals  never  meant  that  we  should 
make  their  lives  a  curse  to  them,  much  less  to  our 
children,  hardened  by  such  daily  sights  of  misery,) 
Washington  generously  set  himself  to  make  artificial 
meadows  j  to  cultivate  fields  of  clover  ;  and  to  raise 
the  most  nutricious  vegetables,  such  as  cabbage,  tur 
nips,  scarcity  and  potatoes  ;  of  which  last  article  he 
planted  in  one  year  700  bushels  !  To  render  these  vast 
supplies  of  food  the  more  beneficial  to  his  cattle,  he 
built  houses  of  shelter  for  them  all.  "  He  shewed  me 
"  a  barn,"  says  Brissot,  "  upwards  of  100  feet  square, 
"  and  of  brick,  designed  as  a  store-house  for  his  corn, 
"  potatoes,  turnips,  &c.  around  which  he  had  con- 
"  structed  stables  of  an  amazing  length,  for  his  cat- 
"  tie."  Every  one  of  them  had  a  stall  well  littered 
with  leaves  or  straw ;  and  a  rack  and  manger  well 
furnished  with  hay  and  provender. 

THE  pleasure  and  profits  arising  from  such  an  ar 
rangement  are  incalculable.  How  delicious  must  it 
have  been  to  a  man  of  Washington's  feelings,  to  re 
flect  that,  even  in  the  very  worst  weather,  every  crea 
ture,  on  his  extensive  farms,  was  warmly  and  com 
fortably  provided ;  to  have  seen  his  numerous  flocks 
and  herds,  gamboling  around  him  through  excess  of 
joy,  and  fullness  of  fat ;  to  have  beheld  his  steps 
washed  with  butter,  and  his  dairies  floated  with  rivers 
of  milk  ;  to  have  seen  his  once  naked  fields  and  frog- 
croaking  swamps,  now,  by  clearance  or  manure,  con 
verted  into  meadows,  standing  thick  with  heavy  crops 
of  timothy  and  sweet  scented  clover  ;  while  his  farm 
yards  were  piled  with  such  quantities  of  litter  and 
manure  as  afforded  a  constantly  increasing  fertility 
to  his  lands. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  211 

HERE  was  an  employment  worthy  of  Washing 
ton  ;  an  employment,  which  we  might  indeed  have 
expected  from  him,  who,  through  life,  had  studied 
the  best  interests  of  his  countrymen  ;  who,  first  as  a 
soldier,  had  defended  them  from  slavery,  and  crowned 
them  with  liberty ;  then,  as  a  statesman,  had  pre 
served  them  from  war,  and  secured  to  them  the  bles 
sings  of  peace ;  and  now  as  the  last,  but  not  least 
services  of  his  life,  was  teaching  them  the  great  arts 
of  improving  their  farms,  multiplying  their  cattle, 
enriching  their  lands,  and  thus  pouring  a  flood  of 
plenty  and  of  comfort  through  the  joyful  habitations 
of  man  and  beast. 

FULL  of  the  greatly  benevolent  idea,  no  wonder 
that  he  was  so  frugal  of  his  time.  Though  the  most 
hospitable  of  all  the  hospitable  Viriginans,  he  would 
not  suffer  the  society  of  his  dearest  friends  to  take 
him  from  his  business.  Long  accustomed  to  find 
his  happiness  in  doing  his  duty,  he  had  attained  to 
such  a  royal  arch  degree  of  virtue,  as  to  be  restless 
and  uneasy  while  his  duty  was  neglected.  Hence, 
of  all  that  ever  lived,  Washington  was  the  most  ri 
gidly  observant  of  those  hours  of  business  which 
were  necessary  to  the  successful  management  of  his 
vast  concerns.  "  Gentlemen,  (he  would  often  say  to 
his  friends  who  visited  him)  I  must  beg  leave  of  ab 
sence  a  few  hours  in  the  forenoon :  here  is  plenty  of 
amusements,  books,  music,  &c.  Consider  yourselves 
at  home,  and  be  happy."  He  came  in  about  twelve 
o'clock ;  and  then,  as  if  animated  by  the  consciousness 
of  having  done  his  duty,  and  that  all  was  going  right, 
would  give  himself  up  to  his  friends  and  to  decent 
mirth  the  rest  of  the  day. 

BUT  his  mornings  were  always  his  own.  Long 
before  the  sun  peeped  into  the  chambers  of  the  slug 
gard,  Washington  was  on  horseback,  and  out  among 
his  overseers  and  servants  :  and  neither  himself  nor 
any  about  him  were  allowed  to  eat  the  bread  of  idle 
ness.  The  happy  effects  c.f  such  industry  were  ob- 
viotos.  Well  manured  and  tilled,  his  lands  yielded  a 


212  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

grateful  return  :  and  it  was  at  once  pleasing  and  as 
tonishing  to  behold  the  immense  quantities  of  fine  hay, 
of  fat  cattle,  and  choice  grain,  that  were  raised  on  his 
farms ;  of  wheat  7000  bushels  in  one  year,  and  5000 
bushels  of  Indian  corn  !  His  servants  fared  plentiful 
ly.  His  cattle  never  had  the  hollow  horn.  And  the 
surplus  of  his  produce,  sold  to  the  merchants,  furnish 
ed  bread  to  the  needy,  and  a  revenue  to  himself  more 
than  sufficient  to  defray  his  vast  expenditures,  and  to 
spread  a  table  of  true  Virginian  hospitality  for  those 
crowds  of  friends  and  foreigners  whom  affection  or 
curiosity  led  to  visit  him. 

OH!  DIVINE  Industry!  queen  mother  of  all  our 
virtues  and  of  all  our  blessings !  what  is  there  of 
GREAT  or  of  GOOD  in  this  wide  world  that  springs  not 
from  thy  royal  bounty  ?  And  thou,  O  !  infernal  Sloth  ! 
fruitful  fountain  of  all  our  crimes  and  curses  !  what  is 
there  of  mean  or  of  miserable  in  the  lot  of  man  that 
flows  not  from  thy  hellish  malice  ? 

WHAT  was  it  that  betrayed  David,  otherwise  the 
best  of  kings,  into  the  worst  of  crimes?  IDLENESS. 
Sauntering  about  idly  on  the  terrace  of  his  palace,  he 
beheld  the  naked  beauties  of  the  distant  bathing  Bath- 
sheba.  Lust,  adultery,  and  murder  were  the  conse 
quences. 

WHAT  was  it  that  brought  on  a  ten  year's  war  be 
tween  the  Greeks  and  Trojans  ?  IDLENESS.  Young 
Paris,  the  coxcomb  of  Troy,  having  nothing  to  do, 
strolls  over  to  the  court  of  Menelaus  (a  Greek  prince) 
whose  beauteous  wife,  Helen,  the  black-eyed  queen 
of  love,  he  corrupts  and  carries  off  to  Troy.  A 
bloody  war  ensues.  Paris  is  slain.  His  father,  bro 
thers,  and  myriads  of  wretched  subjects  are  slaugh 
tered  :  and  Troy,  the  finest  city  of  Asia,  is  reduced 
to  ashes! 

WHAT  was  it  that  hurried  poor  Mr.  A -d  to 

that  horrid  act  of  suicide,  which  froze  the  blood  of  all 
who  heard  it  ?  Idleness.  His  young  wife,  with  all  that 
we  could  conceive  ot  sweetness,  tenderness,  and  truth 
in  an  angel's  form ;  and  his  three  beauteous  babes 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  213 

were  the  three  graces  in  smiling  infancy.  But  oh, 
wretched  man !  having  nothing  to  do  !  he  strolled  to 
a  tavern,  and  to  a  card-table,  where  he  lost  his  all ! 
five  thousand  pounds,  lately  settled  on  him  by  a  fond 
father !  He  awakes  to  horrors  unutterable  !  What  will 
become  of  his  ruined  wife  !  his  beggared  babes  ?  Be 
lieving  his  torments  little  inferior  *  to  those  of  the 
damned,  he  seizes  the  fatal  pistol ;  drives  the  scorch 
ing  bullet  through  his  brains ;  and  flies  a  shrieking 
ghost  to  join  the  mournful  throng  ! 

O  SAD  sight !  see  yon  tall  young  man,  in  powder 
and  ruffles,  standing  before  his  judges,  trembling  like 
an  aspen,  and  pale  and  blank  as  the  picture  of  guilt ; 
while  the  crowded  court  house,  every  countenance 
filled  with  pity  or  contempt,  is  fixed  upon  him.  Alas ! 
what  could  have  brought  him  to  this  ?  Idleness.  His 
father  happening  to  possess  500  acres  of  poor  land, 
and  a  few  negroes,  thought  it  would  be  an  eternal 
disgrace  to  his  familiy  to  bring  up  his  son,  (though  he 
had  many)  to  be  a  mechanic.  No  :  he  must  be  a  gen 
tleman  !  !  Grown  to  man's  estate,  and  having  no  pro 
fession,  trade,  or  habit  of  industry  to  support  this  plea 
sant  life,  he  took  to  horse-stealing.  If  we  had  leisure 
to  wait,  we  should  presently  see  this  unhappy  youth, 
on  receiving  sentence  of  death,  bursting  into  sobs  and 
cries  sufficient  to  make  us  wish  he  had  never  been 
born.  But  let  us  leave  these  horrible  scenes  of 
shame,  misery,  and  death,  into  which  idleness  never 
fails  to  bring  poor  deluded  youth,  and  joyfully  return 
to  our  beloved  Washington,  and  to  his  health,  wealth, 
and  glory-giving  goddess,  Industry. 

WHAT  is  it  that  braces  the  nerves,  purifies  the 
blood,  and  hands  down  the  flame  of  life,  bright  and 
sparkling,  to  old  age  ?  What,  but  rosy  cheeked  Indus 
try.  See  Washington  so  invigorated  by  constant  ex 
ercise,  that,  though  hereditarily  subject  to  the  gout, 
of  which  all  his  family  died,  he  entirely  escaped  it ; 
and,  even  at  the  age  of  66,  continued  straight  and  ac 
tive  as  a  young  grenadier,  and  ready  once  more  at  his 
country's  call,  to  lead  her  eager  warriors  to  the  field. 


214  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

WHAT  is  it  that  preserves  the  morals  of  young 
men  unsoiled,  and  secures  the  blessings  of  unblem 
ished  character  and  unbroken  health  ?  What,  but 
snow-robed  industry  ?  See  Washington  under  the 
guardianship  of  industry,  walking  the  slippery  paths 
of  youth,  safe  and  uncorrupted,  though  born  in  a 
country  whose  fertility  and  climate  furnished  both 
the  means  and  invitation  to  vice.  Early  smitten  with 
the  love  of  glory ;  early  engaged  in  the  noble  pursuit 
of  knowledge,  of  independence,  and  of  usefulness ;  he 
had  no  eyes  to  see  bad  examples  nor  ensnaring 
objects ;  no  ears  to  hear  horrid  oaths,  nor  obscene 
language ;  no  leisure  for  impure  passions  nor  criminal 
amours.  Hence  he  enjoyed  that  purity  of  soul,  which 
is  rightly  called  its  sunshine ;  and  which  impressed 
a  dignity  on  his  character,  and  gave  him  a  beauty 
and  loveliness  in  the  eyes  of  men,  that  contributed 
more  to  his  rise  in  the  world,  than  young  people  can 
rea  dilyconcevie. 

AND  what  is  it  that  raises  a  young  man  from  po 
verty  to  wealth,  from  obscurity  to  never-dying  fame  ? 
What,  but  industry  ?  See  Washington,  born  of  hum 
ble  parents,  and  in  humble  circumstances — born  in  a 
narrow  nook  and  obscure  corner  of  the  British  plan 
tations  !  yet  lo !  What  great  things  wonder-working 
industry  can  bring  out  of  this  unpromising  Nazareth. 
While  but  a  youth,  he  manifested  such  a  noble  con 
tempt  of  sloth,  such  a  manly  spirit  to  be  always  learn 
ing  or  doing  something  useful  or  clever,  that  he 
was  the  praise  of  all  who  knew  him.  And, 
though  but  15,  so  high  were  the  hopes  entertained 
of  him,  he  was  appointed  a  surveyor  !  arduous  task  ! 
But  his  industry  was  a  full  match  for  it.  Such  was 
the  alertness  with  which  he  carried  on  his  surveys  ; 
such  the  neatness  and  accuracy  of  his  plats  and  drafts, 
that  he  met  with  universal  applause.  Full-fed  and 
flushed  with  so  much  fare  of  praise,  a  fare  of  all 
others  the  most  toothsome  and  wholesome  to  generous 
minds,  our  young  eagle  began  to  flap  his  wings  of 
honest  ambition,  and  to  pant  for  nobler  darings.  A 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  215 

fair  occasion  was  soon  offered — a  dangerous  expe 
dition  through  the  Indian  wilds,  as  already  mentioned, 
to  the  French  Mamelukes  on  the  Ohio.  Nobody  else 
having  ambition  for  such  an  adventure,  Washington's 
offer  was  gladly  accepted.  And  he  executed  that  ha 
zardous  and  important  trust  with  such  diligence  and 
propriety,  that  he  received  the  thanks  of  the  gover 
nor  and  council.     Honours  came  down  on  him  now 
in  showers.     He  was  appointed  major  and  adjutant- 
general  of  the    Virginia   forces  ;    then    a    colonel ; 
afterwards  a  member   of  the  house  of   burgesses  ; 
next,    generalissimo  of   the  armies    of   the    United 
States ;  and,  finally,  chief  magistrate  of  the  Union. 
All  these  floods  of  prosperity  and  honour,  which  in 
thousands  would  have  but  served  to  bloat  with  lust  or 
pride,  with  him  served  but  the  more  to  rouse  his  in 
dustry,   and  to  enlarge  his  usefulness  ;  for  such  was 
his  economy  of  time,  and  so  admirable  his  method 
and  regularity  of  business,  that  he  always  kept  a-head 
of  it.1*  No  letters  of  consequence  were  unanswered. 
No  reasonable  expectations  were  disappointed.     No 
necessary  information  was  ever  neglected.     Neither 
the  congress,  nor  the  governors  of  the  several  states, 
nor  the  officers  of  his  army,  nor  the  British  generals, 
nor  even  the  overseers  and  stewards  on  his  farms, 
were  uninformed  whathe  expected  from  fliem.  Nobody 
concerned  with  him  was  idle  or  fretted  for  want  of 
knowing  what  to  do. 

*  He  was  taken  ill  on  Friday.  An  intimate  friend 
asked  him  if  he  wished  to  have  any  thing  done  on  the 
arrangement  of  his  temporal  affairs.  He  shook  his 
head,  and  replied,  "  No,  I  thank  you ;  for  my  books 
"  are  all  posted  to  Tuesday  !"  That  industry  and  me 
thod  must  be  truly  astonishing,  which  in  the  manage 
ment  of  possessions  so  vast  and  complicated  as  his, 
kept  every  thing  so  harmoniously  adjusted,  as  to  be 
ready,  at  a  moment's  warning,  to  leave  the  world  for 
ever  without  a  wish  to  alter  a  tittle. 


216  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

O  ADMIRABLE  MAN  !  O  great  preceptor  to  his 
country  !  no  wonder  every  body  honoured  him  who 
honoured  every  body  ;  for  the  poorest  beggar  that 
wrote  to  him  on  business,  was  sure  to  receive  a 
speedy  and  decisive  answer.  No  wonder  every  body 
loved  him,  who,  by  his  unwearied  attention  to  the 
public  good,  manifested  the  tenderest  love  for  every 
body.  No  wonder  that  his  country  delighted  to  honour 
him,  who  shewed  such  a  sense  of  her  honours  that  he 
would  not  allow  even  a  leaf  of  them  to  wither ;  but 
so  watered  them  all  with  the  refreshing  streams  of 
industry,  that  they  continued  to  bloom  with  ever-in 
creasing  glory  on  his  head. 

SINCE  the  day  that  God  created  man  on  the  earth, 
none  ever  displayed  the  power  of  industry  more  sig 
nally  than  did  George  Washington.  Had  he,  as 
prince  of  Wales,  or  as  dauphin  of  France,  rendered 
such  great  services,  or  attained  such  immortal  ho 
nours,  it  would  not  have  seemed  so  marvellous  in  our 
eyes.  But  that  a  poor  young  man  with  neither  king, 
lords,  nor  commons  to  back  him — with  no  princes, 
nor  strumpets  of  princes,  to  curry  favour  for  him — 
with  no  gold  but  his  virtue,  no  silver  but  his  industry, 
should,  with  this  old-fashioned  coin,  have  stolen 
away  the  hearts  of  all  the  American  Israel,  and  from 
a  sheep-cot  have  ascended  the  throne  of  his  country's 
affections,  and  acquired  a  name  above  the  mighty 
ones  of  the  earth !  this  is  marvellous  indeed !  It 
is  surely  the  noblest  panegyric  ever  yet  paid  to 
that  great  virtue,  industry,  which  has  "  length  of 
days  in  her  right  hand ;  and  in  her  left  hand  riches 
and  honours." 

YOUNG  READER  !  go  thy  way  ,•  think  of  Washing 
ton  ;  and  HOPE.  Though  humble  thy  birth,  low  thy 
fortune,  and  few  thy  friends,  still  think  of  Washing 
ton ;  and  HOPE.  Like  him,  honour  thy  God;  and  de 
light  in  glorious  toil.  Then,  like  him,  "  thou  shall 
"  stand  before  kings.  Thou  shalt  not  stand  before ' 
"  common  men." 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON  217 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

WASHINGTON'S  CHARACTER  CONTINUED. 

HIS  PATRIOTISM. 

u  0  eternal  King  of  men  and  angels,  elevate  our 
minds  !  each  low  and  partial  passion  thence  dispel ! 
till  this  great  truth  in  every  heart  be  known,  that 
none  but  those  who  aid  the  public  cause,  can  shield 
their  country  or  themselves  from  chains" 

LEONIDAS. 

IN  this  grand  republican  virtue,  we  can  with  plea 
sure  compare  our  Washington  with  the  greatest 
worthies  of  ancient  or  modern  times. 

THE  patriotism  of  the  Roman  emperor,  Alexan 
der,  has  been  celebrated  through  all  ages,  because  he 
was  never  known  to  give  any  place  through  favour  or 
friendship;  but  employed  those  only  whom  he  believ 
ed  to  be  best  qualified  to  serve  his  country.  In  our 
Washington  we  meet  this  great  and  honest  emperor 
again.  For,  in  choosing  men  to  serve  his  country, 
Washington  knew  no  recommendation  but  merit — 
had  nojavouris  but  worth.  No  relations,  however 
near — no  friends,  however  dear — stood  any  chance 
for  places  under  him,  provided  he  knew  men  better 
qualified.  Respecting  such  men,  he  never  troubled 
himself  to  enquire,  whether  they  were  foreigners  or 
natives,  federalists  or  democrats.  Some  of  the 
young  officers  of  his  native  state,  on  hearing  that 
colonel  Washington  was  made  COMMANDER  IN  CHIEF, 
were  prodigiously  pleased,  expecting  to  be  made 
Reid  officers  immediately.  But  in  this  they  were  so 
utterly  mistaken,  that  some  of  them  have  foolishly 
said,  t4  it  was  a  misfortune  to  be  a  Virginian"  In 
deed,  his  great  soul  was  so  truly  republican*  that, 


218  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

during  the  whole  of  his  administration,  he  was  never 
known  to  advance  an  individual  or  his  own  name 
and  family. 

THE  British,  with  good  reason,  admire  and  extol 
admiral  Blake  as  one  of  the  bravest  and  .best  of  pa 
triots  ;  because,  though  he  disliked  Oliver  Cromwell, 
yet  he  fought  gallantly  under  him  ;  and,  with  his  dy 
ing  breath,  exhorted  his  men,  u  to  love  their  coun 
try  as  a  common  mother  ;  and,  no  matter  -what  hands 
the  government  might  fall  into,  to  fight  for  her  like 
good  children" 

OF  the  same  noble  spirit  was  Washington.  Often 
was  he  called  to  obey  men  greatly  his  inferiors,  and 
to  execute  orders  which  he  entirely  disapproved. 
But  he  was  never  known  to  falter.  Sensible  of  the 
infinite  importance  of  union  and  order  to  the  good  of 
his  country,  he  ever  yielded  a  prompt  obedience  to 
her  delegated  will.  And,  not  content  with  setting  us, 
through  life,  so  fair  an  example,  he  leaves  us  at  his 
death,  this  blessed  advice :  <l  Your  government 
claims  your  utmost  confidence  and  support.  RE 
SPECT  for  its  AUTHORITY,  compliance  with  its  laws, 
acquiescence  in  its  measures,  are  duties  enjoined  by 
the  fundamental  maxims  oi'  TRUE  LIBERTY.  The  basis 
of  our  political  system  is  the  right  of  the  people  to 
make  and  alter  their  constitutions  of  government. 
But  the  constitution,  which  at  any  time  exists,  until 
changed  bv  an  explicit  and  authentic  act  of  the  whole 
people,  is  SACREDLY  OBLIGATORY  UPON  ALL." 

HISTORY  has  lavished  its  choicest  praises  on  those 
magnanimous  patriots,  who,  in  their  wars  for  liberty 
and  their  country,  have  cheerfully  sacrificed  their 
own  wealth  to  defeat  the  common  enemy. 

EQUAL  to  this  was  the  spirit  of  Washington.  For, 
during  the  war,  while  he  was  with  the  army  to  the 
north,  a  British  frigate  came  up  the  Potomac,  to 
Mount  Vernon  ;  and  threatened  to  lay  the  place  in 
ashes,  if  provisions  were  not  instantly  sent  on  boi.vd. 
To  save  that  venerable  mansion,  the  manager  sent 
aboard  the  requisite  supplies.  On  hearing  the  mat 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON 

tcr,  Washington  wrote  his  manager  the  following 
letter : 

4i  SIR — It  gives  me  extreme  concern  to  hear  that 
*'  you  furnished  the  enemy  with  refreshments.  It 
u  would  have  been  a  less  painful  circumstance  to  me, 
*l  to  have  heard,  that,  in  consequence  of  your  non- 
•'  compliance  with  their  request,  they  had  laid  my 
"•  plantation  in  ruins.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

BUT,  among  all  his  splendid  acts  of  patriotism 
there  is  none  which,  with  so  little  noise,  may  do  us 
more  go?d,  than  his  u  Legacy,  or  Farewell  to  the 
People  of  the  United  States."  In  this  admirable 
bequest,  like  a  true  teacher  sent  from  God,  he 
dwells  chiefly  on  our  union  and  brotherly  love.  This, 
the  first  birth  of  true  religion,  appears  to  him  as  the 
one  thing  needful,  the  spring  of  political  life,  and 
bond  of  perfection. 

ON  this  topic  he  employs  all  the  energies  of  his 
mind  ;  and,  in  words  worthy  to  be  written  in  gold, 
emphatically  beseeches  his  countrymen  to  guard 
with  holiest  care  "  the  unity  of  the  government  "  as 
the  "  main  pillar  and  palladium  of  their  liberty,  their 
independence,  and  every  thing  most  dear  to  them  on 
earth." 

LITTLE  did  that  illustrious  patriot  suspect,  that, 
in  so  short  a  time  after  his  death,  the  awful  idea  of 
DISUNION  should  have  become  familiar  to  the  public 
eye ! — so  familiar  as  to  have  worn  off  half  its  hor 
rors  from  the  minds  of  many  of  our  deluded  citi 
zens  !  Disunion!  Merciful  God!  what  good  man 
can  think  of  it  but  as  of  treason,  and  as  a  very  Pan 
dora's  box,  replete  with  every  curse  that  can  give  up 
our  dear  country  to  desolation  and  havoc  ! 

THIS  disorganizing  scheme  has  been  three  times 
brought  forward,  by  what  Washington  terms  "  cun 
ning,  ambitious,  and  unprincipled  men,"  making  use 
of  a  thousand  arts  to  shut  the  eyes  of  the  citizens  on 
that  yawning  gulph  to  which  they  were  so  wickedly 
misleading  them.  And  each  time,  Lucifer-like,  these 
ministers  of  darkness  have  clothed  themselves  over 


220  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

as  u  angels  of  light"  with  the  captivating  plea  of pub 
lic  good. — "  The  disadvantages  of  the  union  I  the  dis 
advantages  of  the  union  /"  is  their  constant  cry. 
Now  admitting  it  to  be  true,  that  this  so  much  hated 
union  has  its  disadvantages,  (and  where  is  there  any 
human  institution,  even  the  noblest,  that  is  free  from 
them  ?)  yet  is  it  not  the  parent  of  blessings  so  many 
and  great,  that  no  good  man,  as  Washington  savs, 
<c  can  think  of  them  without  gratitude  and  rejoicing?" 
and  is  it  not  equally  true,  that  these  disadvantages  of 
the  union  would  not,  in  fifty  years,  equal  the  ruinous 
consequences  of  a  disunion,  in  probably  half  a  year. 

AT  present,*  the  plea  for  this  most  horrible  mea 
sure,  is  the  mischievous  effects  of  the  embargo. — 
Well,  grant  that  it  is  mischievous,  highly  mischiev 
ous  and  painful,  for  such  we  all  feel  it,  yet  how  in 
expressibly  absurd  it  must  be,  to  put  the  loss  of  trade, 
for  a  year  or  two,  in  competition  with  the  peace  and 
happiness,  the  independence  and  sovereignty  of  our 
country  ?  Would  not  this  be  an  act  a  thousand  times 
more  mad  and  wicked  than  that  of  the  wretched  E- 
sau,  who,  to  remove  the  cravings  of  a  momentary 
appetite,  sold  his  BIRTH-RIGHT  for  a  mess  of  pot 
tage  ! 

AT  this  day,  through  the  great  mercies  of  God, 
we  have  cause  to  consider  ourselves  the  happiest  na 
tion  on  earth. — List !  oh  list ! 

FOR  many  years  past  the  greater  part  of  Christen 
dom  has  been  involved  in  all  the  horrors  of  the  most 
bloodyand  destructive  wars.  Their  kings  and  queens 
have  been  rudely  hurled  from  their  thrones:  and 
the  u  honourable  men  and  the  princes"  verifying  the 
mournful  language  of  ancient  prophecy,  have  been 
seen  embracing  the  dung-hill,  or  flying  from  their  dis 
tracted  countries  ;  while  the  mass  of  the  people,  un 
able  to  fly,  have  been  crushed  to  the  earth  with  tythes 
and  taxes — with  impressments  and  conscriptions 
— with  forced  loans  and  arbitrary  requisitions — 
wkh  martial  law,  administered  by  military  judges, 
*  This  was  written  Anno  Domini  1809. 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  221 

with  the  bayonet  at  the  breasts  of  the  citizens  !  On 
the  other  hand,  during  all  these  horrid  convulsions 
and  miseries  of  other  nations,  WE,  thoughtless,  thank 
less  WE,  have  enjoyed  all  the  blessings  of  peace,  plen 
ty,  and  security.  Our  persons  have  been  free  from 
the  violence  of  impressments  and  conscriptions  ;  and 
our  lives  and  property  perfectly  safe  under  the  night 
ly  staves  of  a  few  old  watchmen  !  while  other  nations 
have  been  over-run  with  devouring  armies,  and 
doomed  to  see  their  houses  in  flames,  and  the  gar 
ments  of  their  children  rolled  in  blood,  n>e,  like  fa 
voured  Israel,  have  been  sitting  under  our  vine  and 
fig-tree,  none  daring  to  make  us  afraid.  We  have  beea 
advancing  in  riches  and  strength,  with  a  rapidity 
unequalled  in  the  history  of  man.  We  have  been 
progressing  in  arts,  manufactures,  and  commerce  to 
an  extent  and  success  that  has  astonished  the  most 
enlightened  Europeans  :  and,  even  at  this  moment, 
while  suffering  under  the  privations  of  the  embargo, 
we  are  feasted  with  every  necessary,  and  enjoying 
many  of  the  elegancies  of  life. 

AND  yet,  with  so  many  substantial  blessings  in  our 
hands,  with  so  much  heaven-sent  manna  in  our  mouths, 
like  ungrateful  Israel*  we  are  mourning  for  lack  of 
European  lu:  uries  (as  they  did  for  the  Egyptian 
flesh-pots,)  luxuries  which  we  once  enjoyed,  but  are 
now  most  unjustly  deprived  of  by  our  brethren,  the 
nations  of  Europe,  who  are  stronger  than  we.  And 
as  if  that  were  not  a  sufficient  evil — as  if  it  were  not 
grievous  enough  to  suffer  such  a  hindrance  in  trade, 
agriculture,  and  business  of  all  kinds — we  are  now 
threatened  with  one,  in  comparison  of  which  our  pre 
sent  privations  are  insignificant — one  which  of  all 
others,  Washington  most  dreaded,  and  was  most 
startled  at,  I  mean  a  SEPARATION  OF  THE  STATES, 
and  consequently,  civil  war. 

THIS  dreadful  consequence  is  as  obvious  as   it  is 
dreadful.     Yes,  it  is  most  obvious,  that  the  separa 
tion  of  the  states  can  never  take  place  without  civil 
U  2 


222  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

war.  For  if  the  states,  disposed  to  separate,  were 
unanimous  in  the  attempt,  the  general  government 
could  not  look  idly  on  their  apostacy,  but  must  resist 
it !  and  to  that  end  must  call  out  the  force  of  the 
rest  of  the  union  to  crush  it.  And  here,  merciful 
God  !  what  scenes  are  rising  before  the  eyes  of  hor 
ror-struck  imagination  ?  A  whole  nation  suddenly 
filled  with  terror  ;  u  men's  hearts  failing  them  for 
fear,  and  for  looking  to  those  things  that  are  coming 
on  the  land" — the  drums  and  instruments  of  war  be 
ginning  to  sound — the  warriors'  guns  and  swords 
preparing  ;  not  for  cheerful  defence  of  liberty  and 
country,  which  would  make  war  glorious  ;  but  for 
the  gloomy  and  infernal  work  of  civil  discord.  Sis 
ters,  mute  with  grief,  and  looking  through  swelling 
tears,  on  their  brothers,  as  they  gird  on  the  hated 
swords — wives,  shaking  with  strong  fits,  and,  with 
their  little  children,  filling  their  houses  with  lamen 
tations  for  husbands  and  fathers  tearing  themselves 
away  for  the  dismal  war,  whence  they  are  to  return 
no  more  !  while  aged  parents,  at  parting  with  their 
sons,  express  the  deep  grief  only  in  groans  ;  or, 
wringing  their  withered  hands,  with  tearful  eyes  to 
heaven,  implore  a  speedy  grave  to  put  their  griefs 
to  rest. 

BUT  all  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  sorrows.  For 
who  can  paint  the  scenes  which  ensue  when  the  two 
armies  meet  ?  when  they  meet,  not  in  the  liberal  spi 
rit  of  sir -anger  troops,  who,  fighting  merely  for  hon 
our  and  pay,  are  ready,  in  the  first  moment  of  vic 
tory,  to  sheath  their  swords,  and  treat  the  vanquish 
ed  with  humanky  and  politeness  ;  but  in  all  the  bit 
terness  and  exterminating  spirit  of  a  family  quarrel, 
whtre  men,  after  numberless  acts  of  the  blackest 
slander  and  of  rancorous  hate,  having  done  every 
thing  to  destroy  each  other's  souls,  are  now  com* 
together  to  destroy  each  other's  bodies.  Hence,  th* 
moment  the  ill-fated  parties  meet,  their  fierce  re 
vengeful  passions  take  fire:  scarce  can  they  waittha 
trumpet's  dreadful  signal.  Then,  rushing  on  each 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  223 

other,  more  like  demons  than  men,  they  thrust  and 
stab,  and  shout  and  yell,  in  the  horrid  work  of  mu 
tual  slaughter. 

AND  when  one  of  the  wretched  parties,  nearly 
consumed  by  the  sword,  and  unable  to  resist  any 
longer,  cry  for  quarters,  they  cry  in  vain. 

THE  furious  conquerors  feel  not  the  touch  of  pity  ; 
but,  regardless  of  uplifted  hands  and  prayers,  con 
tinue  their  cruel  blows  till  all  is  hushed  in  death. 

THIS  is  the  horrid  fate  of  all  civil  wars.  The 
streets  of  ancient  Rome  ;  the  fields  of  Culloden  ;  the 
plains  of  modern  France  ;  and  even  the  piney  woods 
of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  strewed  with  man 
gled  carcases,  all  give  awful  proof,  that  when  breth 
ren  turn  their  swords  into  each  other's  bowels, 
war  degenerates  into  murder,  and  battles  into  butch 
eries. 

NOR  can  even  the  grave  set  limits  to  their  rage  ; 
but,  like  lions,  turning  from  tjie  mangled  dead,  they 
fly  for  new  game  to  the  living.  All  those,  who  by 
their  wealth  had  most  injured,  or  by  their  writings 
had  most  inflamed  them,  are  sure  to  be  the  victims 
of  their  vengeance.  Such  persons — as  was  the  case 
in  the  last  war,  between  the  whigs  and  tories  in  the 
southern  states — have  been  dragged  out  of  their  hou 
ses,  and,  amidst  the  screams  of  their  wives  and  chil 
dren,  have  been  hung  up  on  the  trees,  or  cut  to  pieces 
with  swords  with  the  most  savage  joy  ;  whrle  their 
furniture  has  been  plundered,  their  houses  burnt, 
their  cattle  and  slaves  curried  off,  and  their  widows 
and  children  driven  out,  crying,  and  without  bread, 
into  the  barren  woods. 

NOR  does  this  tragedy  (of  a  free  government  mad 
ly  divided  and  destroying  itself)  terminate  here. 
Even  this,  as  Solomon  says,  is  but  their  u  way  to  hell 
and  their  going  down  by  the  chambers  of  death"  (poli 
tical  slavery*}  For  when  nations  thus  wickedly 
abuse  their  liberty,  God  will  take  it  away*  When 
they  will  not  live  in  peace,  out  of  virtuous  choice. 
they  shall  be  compelled  bv  brutak  force. 


224  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

AND  since  they  would  not  let  God  reign  over  them 
with  a  golden  sceptre  of  reason  and  equal  laws,  he 
will  set  a  master  over  them  with  a  scourge  of  scor 
pions  and  an  iron  rod :  some  proud  tyrant,  who,  look 
ing  on  our  country  but  as  his  estate,  and  ourselves  as 
his  cattle,  shall  waste  our  wealth  on  the  pomps  of  his 
court,  or  the  salaries  of  his  officers  ;  destroy  our  sons 
in  his  ambitious  wars  ;  and  beggar  us  with  exactions, 
as  long  as  his  ministers  can  invent  taxes,  or  we,  by 
hard  labour,  can  raise  money  to  pay  them. 

"  Then"  in  the  words  of  Washington,  «*  what  a 
triumph  for  the  advocates  of  despotism,  to  find  that  we 
are  incapable  of  governing  ourselves;  and  that  sys 
tem*  founded  on  equal  liberty  are.  ideal  and  falla 
cious  .'"  Then,  how  will  the  proud  sons  of  dcpotism 
shake  themselves  with  laughter  on  their  thrones  ; 
and  hell  itself",  responsive  to  their  joy,  clank  her  con 
gratulating  chains,  that  heaven  is  defeated,  and  the 
misery  of  man  is  sealed.  . 

BUT,  O  ye  favoured  countrymen  of  Washington  ! 
your  republic  is  not  yet  lost ;  there  is  still  hope. 
The  arm  that  wrought  your  political  salvation,  is 
still  stretched  out  to  save  ;  then  hear  his  voice  and 
live  !  Hear  the  voice  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  your 
republic:  "  Little  children,  love  one  another."  Hear 
his  voice  from  the  lips  of  his  servant  Washing 
ton  :  "  Above  all  things  hold  dear  your  NATIONAL 
UNION.  Accustom  yourselves  to  estimate  its  im 
mense,  its  infinite  value  to  your  individual  and  na 
tional  happiness.  Look  on  it  as  the  palladium  of 
your  tranquillity  at  home  ;  of  your  peace  abroad  ; 
of  your  safety  ;  of  your  prosperity  ;  and  even  of 
that  very  liberty  which  you  so  highly  prize  !"  To 
this  you  are  bound  by  every  tie  of  gratitude  and 
love  to  God  or  man.  1st.  As  to  God,  no  peopl« 
more  than  you  can  be  bound  to  adore  that  invisible 
hand  which  rules  the  affairs  of  men.  'Twas  he 
who  fought  your  battles,  and  against  such  fearful 
odds  establishedyour  independence  ;  and  afterward^ 
disposed  your  hearts  for  the  reception  of  a  general 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  225 

and  equal  government.  And  for  what  did  God 
perform  all  these  miracles  for  you,  but  that  he  might 
glorify  himself  in  your  protection  and  happiness  ? 
And  will  you  not  now  rise  up  with  joy  to  co-operate 
with  God  in  the  glorious  work  of  beautifying,  with 
the  fruits  of  righteousness,  this  goodly  land,  which 
he  has  so  honoured,  that  he  may  place  his  own  great 
name  therein  ? 

AND  remember,  moreover,  my  countrymen,  that 
you  are  now  the  favoured  actors  on  a  most  conspi 
cuous  theatre  :  a  theatre  which  seems  peculiarly 
designated  of  Heaven  for  the  display  of  human 
greatness  and  felicity.  Far  from  the  furious  pas 
sions  and  politics  of  Europe,  you  are  placed  here 
by  yourselves,  the  sole  proprietors  of  a  vast  region, 
embracing  all  the  soils  and  climates  of  the  earth,  and 
abounding  with  all  the  conveniences  of  life.  And 
Heaven  has  crowned  all  its  blessings  by  giving  you 
a  freer  government  and  a  fairer  opportunity  for  poli 
tical  happiness  than  any  other  nation  was  ever  fa 
voured  with.  In  this  view,  citizens  of  the  United 
States,  you  are  certainly  responsible  for  the  highest 
trust  ever  confided  to  any  people.  The  eyes  of  long 
oppressed  humanity  are  now  looking  up  to  you  as  to 
her  last  hope  ;  the  whole  world  are  anxious  specta 
tors  of  your  trial ;  and  with  your  behaviour  at  this 
crisis,  not  only  your  own,  but  the  destiny  of  unborn 
millions  is  involved.  If,  now,  you  make  a  wise  use 
of  the  all-important  opportunity — if  your  free  con 
stitution  should  be  sacredly  maintained — if  honour, 
if  patriotism,  if  union,  and  brotherly  love  should 
prevail,  with  all  the  good  qualities  which  ennoble 
the  character  of  nations — then  the  victory  will  be 
sure  :  your  triumph  will  be  complete  :  and  the  pres 
sure  of  the  present  difficulties,  instead  of  weakening 
will  give  a  firmer  tone  to  the  federal  government, 
that  shall  probably  immortalize  the  blessings  of  LI 
BERTY  to  our  children  and  children's  children. 


226  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

THEN  rouse !  my  generous    countrymen,  rouse  ! 
and,  filled  with  the  awfulness  of  our  situation,  with 
the  glorious  spirit  of  '76,  rally  around  the  sacred 
standard  of  your  country.     As  good  children  give 
her  all  your  support.     Respect  her  AUTHORITY  ! — 
comply  with  her  laws  !   acquiesce  in  her  measures  ! 
—  Thus  cemented  by  love,    she   shall  become  like 
the  precious  wedge  of  Ophir  that   defies  the    fur 
nace  ;  and  coming  forth  from  the  fiery  trial  bright 
er  than  ever,  she  shall  shed  on   the   cause  of  free 
dom,   a  dignity  and  lustre  which   it  never   enjoyed 
before  ;    a  lustre  which  cannot  fail  to  have   a  favou 
rable  influence  on  the  rights   of  man.      Other  na 
tions,   finding  from  your  example,   that  men  are  ca 
pable  of  governing    themselves,  will  aspire   to   the 
same    honour  and    felicity.     Great    and   successful 
struggles  will  be  made  for  liberty.     Free  govern 
ments   (the  pure  mothers  of  nations)   will  at  length 
be  established.      Honouring  all  their  virtuous   chil 
dren  alike,  jealousies  and  hatreds  will   cease,  and 
cordial  love   prevail,  inviting  the    industry   of  all, 
the  blessing  of  plenty  will  be    spread  abroad,  and 
shameless  thefts  be  done  away.     And  wisdom   and 
worth  (as  in  the  choice  of  a  free  people)  being  cal 
led  to  high  places,  errors  will  be  rare.  Vices,  asham 
ed,  shall  hide  their  odious  heads;  cruelties  seem  ab 
horrent,  and  wars  unknown.     Thus,  step   by   step 
progressing  in  virtue,  the  world  will  ripen  for  glory, 
till  the  great  hour  ot  her  dissolution    being  come, 
the  ready  archangel  shall  lift  his  trumpet,  and  sound 
her  knell.     The  last  refining  flames  sh;;li  then  kin 
dle   on   this   tear-bathed,  blood-stained  globe,   while 
from   its  ashes  a  new  earth  shall  spring,   far  happier 
than  the  first.     There,  freed   from  all  their   imper 
fections,  the  spirits  of  good  men  (the  only  true  patri 
ots)   shall    dwell    together,    and    spend  their    ever 
brightening  days  in  loves  andjoys  eternal. 

MAY  the  Great  Founder  of  your  ho!y  repub 
lic  keep  you  all  under  his  divine  protection  ;  in 
cline  your  hearts  to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  cheerful 
subordination  to  government ;  to  entertain  a  bro- 


LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON.  227 

therly  affection  and  love  for  one  another ;  and  final 
ly  dispose  you  all  to  do  justice  ;  to  love  mercy  ;  and 
to  demean  yourselves  with  that  charity,  humility, 
and  pacific  temper  of  mind,  which  were  the  charac 
teristics  of  the  DIVINE  AUTHOR  of  our  blessed  reli 
gion  ;  without  an  humble  imitation  of  whose  exam 
ple,  in  these  things,  we  can  never  hope  to  be  a 


CONCLUSION. 

WASHINGTON'S  WILL. 

FEW  great  men  are  great  in  every  thing.  But  in 
the  last  testament  of  this  extraordinary  American, 
we  see  some  things  altogether  characteristic. 

WHEN  Benedict  Arnold  came  to  die,  he  said — 

I  bequeath  my  soul  to  God" 

WHEN  Henry  Laurens,  president  of  the  first  con 
gress,  came  to  die,  he  said,  "  My  Jlesh  is  too  gooa 
for  worms  :  I  give  it  to  the  fames  ;"  which  was  done. 

BUT  WASHINGTON  makes  no  preamble  about  his 
soul  or  body.  As  to  his  soul,  having  made  it  his 
great  business  to  re-instamp  on  it  the  image  of  God, 
he  doubted  not  but  it  would  be  remembered,  when 
Christ  should  come  "  to  makeup  his  jewels." 

AND  as  to  his  body,  that  admirable  piece  of  divine 
mechanism,  so  long  the  honoured  servant  of  duty  to 
his  God  and  his  country,  he  trusted,  that,  though 
u  sown  in  dishonour,  it  wrould  one  day  be  raised  in 
glory  ;"  so  leaving  it  to  rest  in  hope,  he  proceeds  to 
the  following  distribution  of  his  worldly  goods  : 

1st.  THOUGH  an  old  husband  of  68,  yet,  with  the 
gallantry  and  warm  affection  of  a  young  groom,  he 
gives  the  whole  of  his  estate  (530,000  dollars)  to  his 
beloved  wife  Martha  !  during  her  life. 

2d.  LIKE  a  pure  republican,  he  orders  all  his  slaves 
obe  iberated,  at  certain  ages,  on  his  wife's  death — 


22S  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

lamenting,  that  from  obstacles  insurmountable,  he 
could  not  have  done  it  earlier. 

3d.  HE  confirms  his  former  donations,  viz.  400O 
dollars  to  a  charity  school,  in  the  town  of  Alexandria  ; 
10,000  dollars  to  Liberty-Hall  Academy,  Rockbridge 
county,  Virginia  ;  and  20,000  dollars  to  a  national 
university,  to  be  founded  in  Washington  ;  with  this 
remark  :  u  It  has  always  been  a  source  of  serious  re 
gret  with  me,  to  see  the  youth  of  these  United  States 
sent  to  foreign  countries  for  education,  often  before 
their  minds  were  formed,  or  they  had  imbibed  just 
ideas  of  the  happiness  of  their  own  ;  contracting  too 
frequently,  not  only  habits  of  dissipation  and  extra 
vagance,  but  principles  unfriendly  to  republican  go- 
•oernment,  and  to  the  true  and  genuine  liberties  oj 
mankind. 

"  FOR  these  reasons,  it  has  been  my  ardent  wish 
to  see  a  university  in  a  central  part  of  the  union,  to 
which  the  youth  of  fortune  and  talents,  from  all  parts 
thereof,  may  be  sent  for  the  completion  of  their  edu 
cation  in  all  the  branches  ot  polite  and  useful  learn 
ing,  and  especially  of  POLITICS  AND  GOOD  GOVERN 
MENT  ;  and  also  that,  by  associating  with  each  other, 
and  forming  friendships  in  early  life,  they  may  be 
enabled  to  free  themselves  from  those  local  prejudices 
and  state  jealousies,  which  are  never-failing  sources 
of  disquietude  to  the  public  mind,  and  pregnant 
with  mischievous  consequences  to  this  country." 

4th.  HAVING  no  children,  he  bequeaths  the  whole 
of  his  estate,  a  few  legacies  excepted,  to  the  chil 
dren,  23  in  number,  of  his  brothers  and  sister  ;  and, 
like  a  generous  and  affectionate  relative,  he  gave  to 
the  children  of  his  half  brother,  Augustin,  equally  as 
to  those  of  his  ozun  brothers.  And,  'tis  a  most 
pleasing  fact,  he  gave  to  his  wife's  grand-children  in 
like  liberal  «\eas.ure  with  his  own  nieces  and  nephews ! 
the  part  given , to  each  has  been  computed  at  20,OOC 
dollars. 

FINIS 


•_-___^IMi:  • 

14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

s  book  »SA'Stt±tf ' 

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